Scars heal in time
by nerdonthemove
Summary: The last time Wade Barrett saw John Cena was when he got him injured in a house show. Weeks later, they had the chance to face each other again. But why did the Cenation leader looked like he was worse than an injured man? WARNING: HARD SLASH
1. Chapter 1

Title: Broken (Chapter 1)

Pairing: John Cena/Wade Barrett

A/N: As always, a Jade fic! But I took it to a new level...By the way, just to give you a heads up, there are certain scenes here that you may not like so...please don't flame on it if you don't like it, alright? All the same, I hope you enjoy! ^^

* * *

"Glad you made it on time, Wade,"

"As always, Cole,"

Wade gave Michael Cole a last thump on the back before the man went away, giving out last notes to the other wrestlers in sight. The Brit looked around the place, suddenly feeling a heavy load in his chest. It had been weeks since he last stepped foot on the RAW arena and he had to admit, he still missed the brand. Well, yeah, SmackDown was great but there was something in RAW that he couldn't let go just yet, and he was aware that it was something more than the gratefulness for making him well known. Despite his thoughts, he took in a deep breath and smiled.

A pat on the shoulder woke him from his daze and he turned to Gabriel who had an energetic look on his face.

"We are going to have a blast tonight!" The South African claimed excitedly and Wade had to chuckle at the sight.

"Alrigh', I heard you for the tenth time, Justin."

"He's right, Wade," Heath suddenly intejected. "We're gonna kick some ass!"

"Yeah!" Justin piped in. "We're kicking some Nex-ass!"

The Brit couldn't help a grin from his face. Months ago, he was with the Original Nexus: the group whose only aim was to revolutionize RAW. The desire for change went up to Wade's head and intoxicated it with the longing for supremacy and the attached strings were pulled one by one. It brought him to his downfall and he was banished from the group he himself had created.

But Corre was different. They were equals, sharing the same goal and achieving it by helping each other out in times of need. He didn't have to order anyone around because he wasn't the leader. In this group, nobody needed to be a leader because they were family.

From behind Wade, he heard Jackson sigh in amusement before asking him in disbelief, "They're like this all the time?"

"No' at all," the younger one replied, glancing at the other two who were sparring playfully at each other. "Well, I'm no' really sure. When we were still Nexus, they were quiet and serious. They started actin' like this when we became the Corre. Bu' I have to admit, it's fun seein' this side of them."

"I gotta say, anytime soon you're going to be the mack daddy of the group,"

"Better start actin' like one," Wade said almost to himself as he approached Justin and Heath. Shaking his head, he had to break the two apart as Heath had Justin in a submission hold. "Okay, tha's enough, you guys. We still have to ge' to our locker room."

Just like little kids, Heath and Justin obeyed then followed Wade and Zeke as they made their way to the locker room. They loudly chattered on the way, calling Punk and his New Nexus some weird funny names that brought Heath to tears of laughter. Wade found them funny too, but there was one person who had actually made him burst out laughing after hearing the joke. Well, he didn't want to say who it was because he knew that Slater would be pissed off if he said it out loud.

Suddenly, Wade stopped on his tracks when he saw a nearby door opening. The other three came to a halt as well, surprised with the Brit's sudden reaction and they waited for the person to appear. A second later, Cena came out of the room, wearing his usual get-up: Purple CeNation shirt, denim shorts and tennis shoes. The man looked up and took a step back as soon as he saw the group, but he didn't speak a word. Instead, his eyes lingered on the face of Wade Barrett who stared back at him blankly.

The two former rivals stared at each other, neither one of them moving nor making a sound. It was almost like an eternity of silence and the two didn't back down. It was almost like they were having a blinking contest, but probably some would think that a fight would break any second now. Even the other members of the Corre were holding their breath, bracing for the next move the two was going to do.

And just as when Heath, Justin and Zeke were about to get in the middle of the staring contest Wade and Cena was having, the CeNation leader let out a sigh, turned around and walked away without a word. The three watched him go, waiting for him to disappear to the hallway before turning to Wade who took in a deep breath.

"That was intense!" Jackson said, placing a hand on the Brit's shoulder. "I'm surprised you're still standing after that! I mean, I confess I saw the feud between you and Cena but I thought that was just a sprinkler for the storyline!"

"It's all true, Zeke," Justin answered for Wade when the man didn't speak. "But we didn't know Cena still had a grudge against Wade."

"Come on, guys, let's go." Wade commanded as he walked forward. "We have to prepare for rehearsal."

He walked without waiting for them and the other three glanced at each other, puzzled at the sudden change of tone in Wade's voice. Nevertheless, Zeke gave them a confused shrug and they followed the Brit quietly to the locker room.

"I hate Cena," Wade heard Heath mutter as they came near their room. Zeke and Justin turned to the red-haired man as he continued, "He called me 'The Chick from Wendy's'. Now everybody's calling me like that."

As soon as Wade heard what Slater had said, a laugh had started to rise up in his stomach but he tried his best to supress it. He had always know that Heath wouldn't like it if he admitted that he found Cena's joke funny. And not just amusing, but the best of all he had heard.

* * *

December 29th, 2010.

It was the day Wade considered as his worst accident ever. He didn't mean to do it; hell, it wasn't even written in the scipt. Nobody suggested that he do it either. It just happened.

He gave John Cena a serious injury. A real, unintentional, out-of-the-script injury.

Guilt spread across the Brit's stomach, sending somersaults inside his guts as he watched Cena, difficultly trying to stand and follow him up the steel cage. Wade didn't move and he felt something churn in the pit of his stomach. The referee approached the older man and checked him out, then went to Wade after a moment. He was saying something about changing the script, but the Brit wasn't listening. His eyes were fixed on the man lying on the mat and gripping his hip for support.

The ref shook him awake, shouting, "Keep the match going!"

This time, Wade looked at the referee and thought that he was right. They were in the ring where nobody cared whether somebody got his opponent injured. But it was hard to adjust in a split of a second. Sure, he and Cena never really got along and the feud the writers had put up between them made their working relationship worse than normal. Still, he was human and not once did the thought of hurting Cena on purpose had ever crossed his mind.

That night when the match had finally ended and the audience were slowly walking to the exits as they discussed the show, Wade was in backstage, waiting for John to appear from the ring. The American gave a 'final' speech to the people regarding his injury but after that, he walked out of the cage, limping and refusing help from the medics. While this was happening, Wade was thinking deeply of what he was going to say when he faces John again.

After minutes of silence, the man finally appeared, still walking limply and Wade noticed that he was sweating. Perhaps the injury was quite worse than he had imagined, and it made him feel more guilty than before. Nevertheless, he approached John, ready with his words of apology, but before he could even speak, a glare was thrown in his face and it made him stop.

"Are you happy now?" John barked at him.

Wade was speechless and the words he had rehearsed for minutes were instantly gone, leaving his head blank and thoughtless. He wanted to say sorry but that would be inappropriate right now.

"I...I didn't mean to-"

"Yeah, you didn't mean it." The older man snapped in a sarcastic tone, his voice echoing around the place. He continued to walk limply, probably walking away from Wade, but the Brit was having none of it so he tried following Cena.

"John, wait-"

"What else do you want, Barrett? You got what you wanted! You finally found a way to sabotage my RAW appearances for real, not to mention Royal Rumble and WrestleMania! Well that's just sad for you because I'll do everything to get myself well quicker than you can ever imagine. You know what? I don't care what happens to you, just, get out of my sight."

Speechless, Wade's mouth almost flipped open in surprise. All he wanted was to apologize and he got this from John? A sudden urge to pull Cena back and argue about this like how they did it every time they were in the ring was creeping up to his brain but referees started swarming up around the stumbling man like bees with black and white stripes, and Wade lost the chance to talk to Cena further.

That was the last time Wade had seen John, and those were the last words they said to each other. The typical Barrett and Cena feud. And it happened even without the presence of the audience. He watched the men as they supported John to the exit, the picture of the fans' most awaited Barrett and Cena team crashing before his eyes. With his decision, he knew that he was going to change the already written storyline for a team to destroy the New Nexus, but he didn't want to cause trouble anymore.

The next day, he called McMahon and asked to be moved to SmackDown, dropping the storyline that was already made for future RAW episodes.

"Wade...Wade!"

The Brit looked up, his mind slowly getting back to the real world. A hand was waving in front of his face, probably trying to wake him up from his trance. In fact, it did and he found that the hand belonged to Heath, who had a worried look on his face. Behind him, Justin and Zeke had the same expression as well.

"Everythin' alrigh'?" Wade asked in a light tone, making Heath and the others sigh in relief.

"We're the ones who's supposed to ask you that question!" Slater said, sitting beside Wade. "What's going on with you?"

"Yeah man," Zeke concurred. "You've been quiet for solid five minutes already."

"I'm sorry guys, I guess I'm just tired, tha's all," Wade answered shaking his head lightly. Everybody was good to go and even a crew already went to their locker room to tell them that it was time to rehearse their scene with the New Nexus.

He was zipping his duffel bag close when Justin said, "Is it about Cena? You were still feeling good until we saw him in the hallway earlier."

Wade slowly turned to Justin and approached him. He felt him cringe as he went closer, but he continued to place his arms around the young man's shoulders then patted his cheek lightly. "You're sayin' I don't feel good now? I'm feelin' a hell lot of better an' even Cena can't spoil the excitement!"

And with that, the faces of the other Corre members lightened up with Wade's reassuring voice. With their high spirits back to the top, they lively headed to the arena as Wade led the way, but little did they know that the Brit was still deep in thoughts as they walked. Wade was still picturing the face Cena had the last time he saw him, and comparing it to the look he saw earlier when he saw him come out of his locker room. He was sure that there was something odd going on with the man; he just couldn't place what it was.

When the group had finally made it to the arena, Wade looked up and almost smiled. This time he was positive that he had missed RAW for some reason he still couldn't explain. He looked around, watching the crew and staff put up the cameras and the lights then he turned to the ringside, seeing some of the RAW roster sitting comfortably on their chairs. When his eyes got to the ring however, his little smile instantly faded as soon as he spotted Punk and his New Nexus in the ring, wearing their new, modified shirts. Wade almost snorted at the look of his former group, standing behind a man who was inches shorter than him.

"Oh look, it's Wade and his little co-members!" Punk drawled on, a smirk playing across his face. "How nice it is to see you again! Why don't you come up here so we can get this over with early?"

Wade's face fell into a scowl and he kept quiet. He knew that he wouldn't say anything nice once he opened his mouth that moment so he merely walked to the ring, the Corre following right behind him. They entered the ropes then stood in front of the New Nexus without fear.

"Righ'. Let's ge' this done early."

Punk let out a mocking chuckle then suddenly searched around the arena, and it seemed that he was looking for someone as he called out, "You heard the man! Get Cena in here!"

"I'm right here," John calmly answered as he stood from his seat. Wade turned his head to Cena's direction and found the man standing beside Randy Orton. The Brit's eyes almost widened in surprise. He had forgotten that John was in a relationship with the third-gen superstar Randal Keith Orton even before Cena was involved with the Nexus storyline. The Viper was one of the reasons why nobody could touch the CeNation leader; the man almost never leaves Cena's side. That was why it came as a surprise to Wade that Orton wasn't with Cena when he got him injured. Most shocking was he was still alive after what he had done to his boyfriend.

Watching the older man walk to the ring, Wade caught Cena's eyes and he realized something: the man looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes and his blue orbs looked so weary. Not only that, there was a hint of a reddish mark on his neck. Cena didn't look like this the last time he saw him. Wade knew he was the cause of John's end of the year injury, but why was it that the CeNation leader looked like he was worse than an injured man?

Finally, John got in the ring and he stood in between the two groups. He glanced at Punk, then at Wade. The moment their eyes met the second time that day, the Brit had noticed the strangest thing in this Cena right away: it looked like the man's soul had left his body, leaving an empty shell before them.

"Writers said the main event is between Barrett and Punk," John said as soon as he turned away from Wade. "And no other members in their respective groups should get involved in the match. I'll be your special referee as the RAW GM says and I'll act like I will abuse my authority as the referee. You got that?"

Punk and his group nodded and Wade merely grunted. The Brit was too bugged by Cena's change after a few weeks that he couldn't focus. He couldn't help but think that it was his fault that John was like this. Having enough of it all, the Brit finally shook his head and tried to concentrate on the job he was supposed to do that moment.

It was then that Wade had a feeling that this was going to be a long night for him.

* * *

It was minutes past midnight when Wade and the Corre finally decided to get back to their hotel rooms to call it a day. Even though it was a tiring, yet confusing day for the Brit, he still found the show a success and he had a satisfied feeling in him as he walked with Heath, Justin and Zeke to the exit. At least his thoughts about the CeNation leader was put to a stop when he faced Punk earlier that night, which was helpful because he didn't want to think of Cena again.

But out of nowhere, Justin brought out the man's name, saying in an annoyed voice, "Too bad for Cena, he thought he can stop us from getting to the Rumble this year!"

"What's his problem, anyway?" Zeke asked and Slater answered for Justin.

"I bet he wants everyone out of his way in the Rumble!"

Not this one again, Wade thought. Didn't he just ask not to think of Cena anymore? Suddenly irritated, he reached in his pockets, searching for his iPod, thinking that music would soothe his restless brain. However, he found his pockets empty except for his car keys and a couple of crumpled papers. He abruptly stopped on his tracks and laid his duffel bag on the ground, frantically looking for the gadget. The other Corre members stopped as well, watching Wade almost throw everything from his bag.

"What's the matter, Wade?" Heath asked. Wade kept on scruffling in his bag and he didn't even look up as he replied.

"My iPod, I can't find it anywhere," and he started taking items from the bag one by one as he muttered, "It's go' to be here somewhere..." But no matter how hard he looked, he didn't find his iPod. Disappointed, he started taking his things back in his bag slowly.

"Wait, you placed your iPod on the bench before you showered, right?" Justin said suddenly and Wade's head turned to him in a heartbeat. That was when Wade remembered that he did leave his iPod in the locker room.

He closed his duffel bag and swung it behind his shoulder as he stood. "Thanks fo' remindin' me, Justin. I'm goin' to check the locker room, see if it's still there. You guys go ahead; I'll see you in the morning."

Though hesitant to leave their teammate, the three nodded in approval and walked to the exit as Wade turned and headed to the locker rooms hurriedly. He passed by a lot of corridors, his footsteps echoing across the hallway. As he walked, he realized that he was the only one left in the place and it wouldn't hurt if he made a lot of noise, so he started picking up his pace and he quickly strolled down the aisle.

A couple of minutes later, Wade finally found the room where he and Corre had stayed for the day and he barged inside, heading to the benches where he sat earlier that day. At the first look, he almost sighed in relief when he found his iPod placed carefully on the metal surface of the bench. Smiling, he grabbed the gadget and stuffed it in his pocket, feeling better than before. He left the room, closing the door lightly behind him.

It was silent as Wade headed to the main hall and somehow the silence was rather deafening. Thinking of an idea, he fished the iPod out of his pocket and tried to start it but then he just realized that he hadn't charged the thing yet so its batteries were probably drained. He guessed he'd just have to muster the quietness of the place until he got out of the arena.

Wade took one step forward and in time with his move, he heard something creak. He stopped, checking where the sound came from. The creaking got louder and the Brit got more curious. He followed the sound and found it was in a closed room right beside him. Maybe it was just a rat, or an open window that creaked because of the wind, so he decided to ignore it and head outside. But then he heard hushed voices and rapid breathing inside. This time curiosity got the better of him and he pressed his ear blandly against the door.

There were gasps and grunts, quick breathing and sounds of swatting in rythm, and Wade's eyes widened. He couldn't be wrong; a couple was doing something nasty in the room. The creaking sound continued along with the groans and cries of pleasure, and it seemed to get faster with every count. Wade felt embarrassed for eavesdropping on a couple fucking each other's brains out but he couldn't take his ear away from the door. Well, it was because he wanted to recognize at least one of the voices he was hearing and he had to admit: what he was hearing was actually turning him on.

The moans grew louder and more needy and Wade felt a sudden rush inside his stomach. If he wasn't careful to keep himself together, he might end up stroking himself on the spot but still, he couldn't move from where he was standing. And then as he was about to give in to his own flesh, he heard the name that made him sane again.

_"...R-Randy..."_

Stricken in surprise, Wade turned to the door and mouthed 'Randy?', unable to believe what he just heard. He thought that he left with Cena earlier than the other superstars! What was he doing in here? Wait, maybe he sneaked in here with someone else? Cena wasn't that naughty to have public sex; Wade knew the man had dignity in him. There was one explanation left Wade could think of.

Randy was cheating on Cena.

The slapping sounds was getting faster and so was the grunting. Wade closed his eyes, trying to stop himself although this was like a preview of a porn movie.

_"...Randy..no, st-stop it...hurts..."_

But the grunting didn't stop and it got louder that Wade didn't have to press his ear against the door anymore. The Brit looked at the door, not knowing what to do. The man-woman-whoever Randy was fucking was begging him to stop, but it seemed that Randy wasn't listening. The cry was matching Orton's pleasured moans and Wade didn't know if he could hear more of it.

_"I-I can't anymore!...Randy..Ahh! Stop, please-gah!"_

Wade closed his ears, taking a step backward. He couldn't hear any of this anymore! The cry and the plea of whoever it was sent a shot through the Brit's heart and it made Wade want to charge into the room and stop what they were doing. But Wade knew he would be disrupting their privacy; he wasn't that rude to do that!

Eventually, he took his hands away from his ears and listened if there were still sounds coming from the room, but then all he heard was silence. Seconds later, he heard the sound of a belt jingling and he froze on his spot. Anytime now, somebody would come out of that room and he'd be in deep shit if he would be seen, so he grabbed his bag and quietly moved to a dark corner almost ten feet away. Wade's heart was beating in anticipation and nervousness, it was like it wanted to leap out of his ribs. Breathing deeply, he forced himself to calm down and waited for the first person to walk out of the room.

Wade heard the door open and close after a couple of minutes. He leaned slowly to the wall, peeking discreetly from his corner. From his location he saw Randy straighten his shirt out and walk to the exit. Wade had expected him to come out first for he probably tired his partner out. Patiently, the Brit waited for the next one to appear from the room.

Moments later, the door finally opened and Wade almost stumbled on his feet out of surprise. Cena came out of the room, wiping his eyes with his palm, and it looked like he was just crying. The man looked around, checking if somebody was watching him before walking away, limping slightly.

Realizing he was wrong, Wade stayed on his place, stricken with disbelief. That explained why Cena looked so tired, why he had a red mark on his neck, why he looked so pitiful compared to the last time he saw him. It all explained everything. And he was wrong; Randy wasn't cheating on Cena.

_Cena was in an abusive relationship with Orton._


	2. Chapter 2

_Clutching on the edge of the table like it was his lifeline, John bent down, his face almost touching the wooden surface of the table. He scrunched his eyes shut, preparing himself for the worst to come. He took a deep breath as he felt Randy's hand caressing his stomach, the man's palm running against his sweating skin. With the surprisingly gentle touch, John calmed down and gave a small groan as his partner wrapped his warm fingers around his cock, moving his hand up and down and sending all John's blood down to his groin._

_A sudden rush coursed through John's veins as Randy pumped him slowly, making him thrust against his lover's fist. He almost threw his head back as the thrilling sensation took him away from his sanity. But his high crashed down and the ecstasy was replaced with excruciating pain when Randy slid his hard member inside John with a powerful thrust. John let out a scream of agony; he wasn't even stretched out yet and Randy didn't use lube before entering him! What's the use, he thought; Randy wouldn't listen to him even if he begged him to go slow. With no other choice, John muffled his own scream and gritted his teeth._

_"R-Randy..."_

_He thought that Randy would wait for him to calm down before pulling back and pushing in again, but the Viper gripped on his hips and thrust inside him with force that almost made John stumble forward. Another muffled scream came out of the CeNation leader but he was being ignored by Randy who pushed in him without holding back. John could feel his partner's cock roughly scraping his sensitive walls; it felt like he was being torn into pieces not just physically but also emotionally._

_Tears started welling up in John's eyes and he lowered his head down to hide them from his lover. He didn't even know if Randy still treated him as his lover. Whatever it was, John gripped tighter on the table until his knuckles were white from his firm clench. This was all that he could do, he thought as drops of tears finally streamed down his cheeks._

Wade's eyes shot open and he sat up from his bed, his heart pounding inside his chest wildly. He raked his black curls with his shaking fingers as he panted like he was being chased by a bear, and he shook his head, trying to dissolve the memory of the dream he just had. It was still beyond real for him; he just had Cena and Orton in his dreams and not only that, they were having sex in it. It was ridiculous yet he couldn't get his mind off it; the dream was crystal clear and it was like he was watching it in person; like he had the best seat in the house.

Some might say it was hot, but for Wade, it was too much. If he could describe it, he would say that it was horrible. As far as he could remember, Orton had a wicked, psychopathic look on his face as he pummeled into Cena's weakening body. And it was obvious that John wasn't enjoying what Randy was doing to him. No, Wade wasn't expecting any of these; he wasn't aware that Randy had been mistreating John sexually. In fact, the two had been working together for a long time and not once did he hear a complaint from any of them.

Thinking about it now, it was too fast to conclude that Cena was in an abusive relationship with Orton. What if Randy's dominance was turning John on? Some people like being pushed around and maybe John was one of them. Cena was a strong man and if he didn't like what Randy was doing, he would break up with him as soon as he could...right?

But then again, Cena was crying. He was pleading for Orton to stop. He wouldn't blurt out words of pain and say he couldn't take all of it anymore if he was enjoying the agony he was feeling.

Having none of these thoughts anymore, Wade sat up on the bed again and removed his blankets. Looking down, he saw a bulge on his pants that made him sigh in frustration. He had been fantasizing too much, which was normal because what he had dreamed about was a thing many would find hot. But he knew that if he gave in to his body's need, it would mean that he was liking the abuse John was receiving from Randy. Wade wasn't that nice, he knew that himself but he wasn't that bad to enjoy a thing that would disgrace a person.

A loud knock on the door made the Brit take his thoughts away from Cena for a moment and he turned his head to the entrance.

"Hey Wade, still sleeping?" Heath's voice came. "Gonna grab lunch in a few minutes, want to go with us?"

The Brit's eyebrows raised up in surprise. Lunch? Was it that late? He glanced at the digital clock and he tilted his head, convinced when he saw the numbers 11:55 blinking on the screen.

'Thanks a lo', Cena,' Wade thought. 'You made me miss breakfast.'

"Wade, aren't you awake yet?" Heath called out again. Wade got off the bed, ignoring the ache in his groin.

"I'm up, Heath. I'll catch up. Jus' goin' to take a cold shower."

"Right, we'll wait for you at the lobby."

Wade gave a grunt in response and he made his way to the bathroom, looking forward to taking his mind off the things he shouldn't even be thinking about. A shower would probably do the trick, and a very cold one would eventually make him forget everything about his dream, and so he stepped in the shower stall after throwing his dirty clothes in the laundry basket then turned the shower knobs.

The icy cold water hit Wade's body and he almost gasped as the freezing liquid hit his skin. Nevertheless, he stayed under the drizzling shower, soaking his hair and letting drops of water stream down from his neck to his chest. He leaned forward, reaching and letting his palms rest on the bathroom wall as he tried to get used to the temperature of the water. Anytime now, his head would be clear and all he would think about was the strategies he would plan to win the Royal Rumble.

Unfortunately for Wade no matter how hard he distracted himself, he still felt his body screaming for release. He could feel his hard member aching, longing to be touched. Looked like the cold shower didn't help that much at all. Though he knew he would regret it, Wade took one step behind, leaning his back on the cold shower tiles with a sigh. It had been days since he had done this. He had been in a crazy schedule since he moved brands, having matches in house shows and traveling from state to state in one day; it had been very exhausting for him that he didn't even have time for himself. Maybe stress release would actually help lift the weight off his shoulders.

Water trickled down his hard chest and flowed to his stomach as he closed his eyes and finally taking hold of his slick, throbbing cock. He sucked in a breath with the light touch and he slowly stroked himself with his fist. He lifted his head and licked his lips as he pictured a faceless woman pleasuring him with her nimble fingers. This usually worked for Wade and any second now he was supposed to be gasping for air. However, he noticed that his fantasies weren't working this time, so he tried imagining other women that might stimulate his drive. But despite his efforts, it all failed to get him aroused and he was left with nothing else to think about.

Getting desperate, Wade tried to recall a scene from a porn movie he rented months ago when he had nothing to do but eat sweets for Halloween. Hoping it would work, he picked up the pace as he imagined the woman bent down, face first on the chair as he fucked her from behind.

Wade felt his blood rush down to his groin and he stroked himself harder, thinking his fantasy wasn't failing him this time. He continued to picture himself pounding on his imaginary woman like a dog in heat. The woman's pleasured moans were hyping Wade up and he thought that anytime soon, he would finally reach his release. And that was when he realized he was wrong.

Suddenly, Wade's mind blacked out and all he could hear was raspy breathing, and then John took the place of the woman. He was bent down on the table, his ass high up in the air as Wade's cock appeared and disappeared inside the man. Surprised with his own imagination, the Brit stopped moving, not knowing what to do next. Yes, this was all in his head and he could do anything with it. Still, he had not tried imagining intimate situations with other men before, especially Cena, so he didn't know what to do now.

Picturing John's face one more time, Wade's cock twitched in his hand and his balls tightened. He almost rolled his eyes and shivers crawled down his spine; he couldn't believe that his body had just reacted when he thought of Cena. Nobody would ever think this was happening to him. 'Oh, wha' the hell,' he thought and he finally let go, letting his body take over. He pumped himself harder and faster, grunts and moans escaping his lips while imagining himself, pushing inside John and pulling back until the head of his cock was left inside the man. He thrust forward gently and he heard John cry his name out of pleasure.

It seemed too real for Wade; John's groans and cries were clear in his head like he was really in the shower with him. That wasn't a bad thing at all, Wade thought, for he too was letting himself fall into the sensation and he couldn't help but whimper and moan in ecstasy. He continued pumping himself harder and faster with his right hand and massaging his balls with the other, meanwhile inside his head, he wrapped his hand around John's cock and stroked him in time with his thrust. John moaned Wade's name and threw his head back, veins popping in his neck just like the times when he got angry with the Brit.

Two pumps later, the Brit stood still and uttered "John!" as he reached his climax, streams of white, hot liquid spurting out of his cock. Wade gasped for air as he went down from his high, his knees buckling from standing for too long. He opened his eyes and watched the water flood the shower drain, but his mind wasn't with what he was looking at. He was still in the state of disbelief and confusion. Of all the people he could think about while jerking off, it had to be John Cena. It had to be the guy he couldn't stand even for just a second!

The shower stall was already foggy and Wade touched the glass, panting in a slow manner. He rested his forehead against it and closed his eyes. Slowly he tried to accept the fact that he just beat himself off while thinking of Cena. It was normal, he thought as he tried to convince himself; he wasn't the only one who think of the guy in the shower, right? And, yeah, he just came saying Cena's first name in a way he never thought he'd say with so much passion. No big deal.

Weird. Everything that happened was so fucking weird that Wade didn't want to think of it anymore. How many minutes did he spend in the bathroom, that he didn't know. All he knew was he was supposed to meet Heath, Justin and Zeke for lunch. That and nothing more.

* * *

"Where have you gone to, Wade?" Heath asked as soon as Wade stepped in the lobby. The Brit gave them a surprised but confused look.

"I was in my hotel room the whole time. Why?"

The red-haired man turned to Justin and Zeke with a quizzical look on his face, which the other two returned with a shrug. This time Wade raised an eyebrow. It seemed like they were hiding something from him.

"Alrigh', wha' is goin' on?" Wade said in an annoyed tone as he approached the three.

"Nothing, man," Zeke answered. "Just that we've been waiting here for almost an hour. Got the boys worried."

That was it? Wade almost sighed; perhaps he had really grown to be the mack daddy of their group. Happening to gaze at the slightly worried look at Heath and Justin, the Brit shook his head.

"Righ'. I fell asleep as soon as Heath woke me up. I go' up thirty minutes later, go' to shower, an' here I am." Wade placed his arms on each of Heath and Justin's shoulders and led them to the exit. "Now can we just please le' it go, 'cause I am starvin' righ' now."

"Okay," Heath said with a shrug. "But in one condition."

Wade's eyebrow quirked up. "Le' me hear it."

"We're eating at In-N-Out."

"No I don't like In-N-Out!" Justin suddenly countered while tugging Wade's arm to get his attention. "We're eating at Burger King, right Wade?"

"No, In-N-Out!" Heath yelled, stepping away from Wade.

"Burger King!"

"In-N-Out!"

"Burger King!"

And this went on for minutes, ending with the former tag-team champions sparring and bickering like brothers. Wade couldn't do anything but sigh tiredly. All the same, a light smile curved up on his lips.

"Give them a minute and they'll start calling you 'Daddy'," Zeke said, catching Wade's attention this time.

"Don't worry, Zeke, I won't spoil them tha' much."

The Brit let out an amused laugh as he watched Heath and Justin's continuing banter in front of him. Good thing the lobby wasn't that much crowded or else he would be obligated to stop the two for making such a ruckus. He looked around, hoping that nobody was paying attention to them. No other people were around except his group, the two lady receptionists behind their desk and John Cena.

Wade looked away and did a double take as soon as he realized that it was John Cena. The man was leaning on the front desk, probably flirting with the ladies as he smiled with his lady killer smile, dimples included. And it looked like he was successful in smiting the receptionists because they seemed captivated with his grin.

The whole world seemed to stop spinning for Wade as the memory of his dream flowed back inside his head and his veins, sending his blood rushing with increased speed. The way Cena leaned forward on the desk reminded the Brit of the position the CeNation leader was in while Orton fucked him senseless on the table in his dream. And, of course, it also reminded him of the same position while he, Wade Barrett, fucked him in his mind.

_Yeah, that's right,_ Wade thought sarcastically. _And I came saying John's name._

Throwing that thought aside, this might be the only chance Wade had to know the truth. Not that he cared about it or anything; he just didn't want to have another dream about Orton and Cena having sex. And he also wanted to shut the nagging voice in the back of his head who kept on saying that Cena was suffering with Randy. At least once he knew, he'd stop thinking about it.

"Zeke, watch Heath an' Justin fo' me," Wade ordered as he kept his eyes on Cena who was now walking-limping-to the elevator. Zeke gave him a surprised look and Heath and Justin stopped what they were doing, but Wade didn't care. Ignoring the stares he received from his companions, he ran toward Cena before the man had the chance to get to the away.

"Hey John!"

Cena turned to see who called and the smile that was left in his face was instantly gone when he found Wade in front of him. His usually friendly eyes turned cold and the Brit had to stop on his tracks.

_Maybe using Cena's first name wasn't a good idea._

"What the hell do you need?" The older man almost bellowed at Wade, who was actually speechless at the moment. The Brit didn't know whether to break it to him right there and then, or to keep on going around the bush.

Deciding to do the latter, Wade returned John's cold stare with the most honest smile he got-and wondered how long he could keep that smile on his face-in hopes of making the American say yes. "I'm goin' ou' fo' lunch with the Corre. I just wanted to know if you want to come with us."

Keeping his cold, stern look on his face, he looked behind Wade and saw the other Corre members gathered together, their heads turned to their direction and their faces filled with confusion. Then he turned back to the Brit who still had the grin on his lips.

"What are you trying to pull, huh, Barrett?"

Three seconds. That was quick. Wade's smile easily faltered with the demeaning words Cena used. "I'm no' tryin' to pull anythin'. I told you, I just wanted to ask you ou' fo' lunch."

Okay, that came out wrong but Wade was surprised with himself. He wasn't even regretting what he said, though it sounded like he was asking him out on a date. He had to do everything to talk to Cena in private for that was the only way for him to ask if the guy was really in an abusive relationship. He couldn't just blurt it out of the blue and ask if Randy was raping him. That was a private matter and he could only talk about it one-on-one with the person involved, and that was the guy in front of him.

For minutes silence had fell and the only thing that disrupted it was the sound of the elevator opening. Perhaps it was the thing that Cena was waiting for because he didn't say another word and just walked to the elevator. Wade with suddenly burning eyes merely watched him get inside the shaft and disappear in its doors.

A purplish mark on his jaw. Wade's eyes were fast to see that mark on Cena's face before he went out of his sight; hell even make-up couldn't hide it. Clearly that mark wasn't because of a wrestling match. They were trained to suppress their blows at each other, which brings the Brit to only one thought, and that was Randy's blows at Cena.

Maybe it was a bad thing to talk to the CeNation leader, Wade told himself. Now he was more determined to know the truth, because he knew that if he would let it go, he would be haunted and tormented by the nagging thoughts and nightmares-yes, he would call them nightmares-of Cena and Orton and their sick and twisted relationship.

An involuntary smile tugged up the corners of Wade's lips. It wasn't only Cena who lived by with the words 'Never Give Up'.

* * *

It had been a long time since John felt so flustered about something in his life. As far as he could remember, the only time he felt like this was when he was nineteen and was still going out with Liz. If his memory served him right, his father reprimanded him for being an asshole especially when their family was going through some rough times. He spent more time with his girlfriend rather than being with his parents and brothers, until his Dad had had enough and forced him to choose between the girl he loved or his family.

John could say that that was his most unforgettable moment. He could still feel the agitation, the confusion, the overwhelming emotions that filled him that day as though those things happened just yesterday. And truth be told, he was still shaking every time he recollected or maybe just happened to reminisce about it, even just for a second. That was why he tried his best to bury the memory deep inside his head where he wouldn't have the chance to remember them anymore.

However, those hidden feelings had suddenly resurfaced, making him bothered and perturbed once more. He felt like nineteen again, where his mind ached from the questions and the endless search for answers. Somehow he tried to stop wondering, but who wouldn't ask questions especially when a man like Wade Barrett approached you like you were his long lost friend.

A tired sigh escaped John's parted lips as he turned the knob of the showers off then he reached out to grab the towel from the hand rail and immediately dried himself up. He was careful not to touch the bruises on his hips as he toweled himself off, carefully stepping out of the shower tiles. As he covered his hips with the broad, white cloth, he walked to the main locker room and sat on the bench placed against the wall.

John could not help a sigh as he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Right after the unexpected encounter with the Brit earlier that day, he set off to the gym, though it wasn't a part of his schedule today, and tried to relieve himself of the tension and the lingering anger by lifting hundred tons of weights and tiring his body to its limit. It was all he could do, like the many times he did, to distract himself from the things he didn't want to think about. When he had the first screaming match with his father, he went straight to the gym and lifted weights to suppress the urge to lay a hand on his Dad. The same thing happened years later, when he and Randy had their first argument as a couple.

This time, it was different. And freaked the hell out of him. Of all the people to come to him and ask him out for lunch, it had to be Wade. It had to be Wade fucking Barrett. He knew that it wasn't a big deal to other people but to him, it was a huge deal. Everybody knew what the Brit had done to him, treating him like shit when he was still in the Nexus and giving him restrictions to talk to his old friends. Where did that leave him? Well, for starters nobody wanted to talk to him anymore, nor wanted to spend more than a second to just stay in his presence. Not that big a deal, right?

_Wait, didn't Randy order me to stop talking with other superstars even before I joined the Nexus?_ John's eyes shot open, realizing that it wasn't entirely Wade's fault that he didn't have his old friends anymore. Maybe he just wanted someone to blame, and Barrett just happened to be there when there was nobody else to take it.

Come to think of it, why was he so angry with that cocky Brit? The guy wasn't that bad, he had to admit. Actually, Wade didn't speak a word to him personally. For that to happen, the presence of the Nexus must be around, but when they were alone, John didn't feel Wade give a fuck even if he danced in front of him wearing a monkey suit or maybe just a piece of lingerie. Wade was actually a quiet man, compared to Otunga who didn't know how to do a single thing except trying to push the former Nexus leader away from the spotlight. And, yeah, John had to admit, he once had a crush on Wade. But that was when he first saw the Brit; before he was forced to join the Nexus.

_Great. First you loathed his guts, now you start liking him. Way to go, Cena._

With a frustrated sigh, John slowly got off the bench and fetched his duffel bag, taking out his clothes and getting dressed in a hurry. As soon as he was done with his business in the locker room, he headed out to the main hall and walked to the exit, looking forward to getting to his hotel room early, or maybe grabbing a bite on the way.

Just as when John thought nothing unusual was going to happen, a familiar voice hit his ears, making him stop and hide away from eyeshot when he recognized Slater's long red locks. It seemed that Wendy was talking-shouting-to somebody so John peeked to see who the ginger was with.

If the saying "Curiosity killed the cat" was true, then John would probably dropped dead on the floor. Inside the private room, he saw Slater standing with his hands on his hips, and it looked like he was scolding an indifferent Wade Barrett, who sat on the bench with a dumbbell clenched in his hand and an angry scowl on his face. Gabriel sat an arm's length away from the Brit but it was obvious in the man's face that he was worried about his companions. John shrugged mentally; out of all the Nexus members Wade had before, the one he can easily read was Gabriel's expression. Sometimes he really wondered why the kid was even hanging out with an ass like Wade.

John took a step back, already planning on leaving before they see him eavesdropping, but when he heard his name get involved in the group's conversation, his mind was changed in a split of a second.

"Just tell us what you are planning with Cena and I'll stop bugging you, I swear," Slater huffed out, throwing his hands up in annoyance. John frowned. He knew Barrett was trying to pull some plot or something; the Brit clearly wasn't the type who would ask you out for lunch all of a sudden, especially if you got to his bad side.

"I'm no' plannin' on anythin', Heath," Wade answered, lifting the dumbbell to his shoulder. "I jus' wanted to know if Cena was interested in havin' lunch with us."

"But why now, Wade?" This time, it was Gabriel asking. "And you hate Cena, right?"

Wade dropped his fist, leaving the dumbbell on the floor and heaving a sigh. Looked like he wasn't indifferent anymore. Lifting his gaze to Slater then to Gabriel, he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

"I want to ge' on Cena's good side. Tha's why I tried my best to smile at him and ask him if he wanted to hang with us."

"Are you crazy?" Ginger-head exclaimed. "Cena's good side doesn't exist to us! Why'd you want to do that, anyway?"

"Isn't it obvious, slughead?" Wade said, annoyance suddenly showing in his voice. "I want to recruit Cena to the Corre."

With Wade's sudden claim, John almost stumbled on the floor with surprise. He thought that the suddenly friendly Wade was just for show to catch him off guard and beat him to the verge of death in return to the deed he did to the younger man back in TLC. But him? John Cena as the newest member of the Corre? That was a hundred-and-one percent unexpected.

Perhaps the other Corre members were taken by surprise as well, for Gabriel suddenly shot up from his seat and Slater's mouth was hanging so low he wouldn't have noticed if a fly entered it. Despite all of the reaction from his co-members, Wade kept a calm face as he continued, "With Cena on our side, we have a better chance of dominatin' SmackDown, like wha' we did back in RAW."

"And you think that purple-colored poster boy is going to agree with that?"

"Of course no', tha' is why I'll try on gettin' to his good side first, and when we ge' to gain his trust, we recruit him and he wouldn't have the option to refuse."

And after that, no words were spoken further. Wade placed his hands in his pocket and claimed that he was going on first to the showers. As soon as he said that, John carefully stepped away and hurried away as fast as he could. The best thing to do now, particularly now that he knew what Wade's real intentions were, was to run as far away from the crazy bunch as possible. No, he wouldn't get involved in their insane schemes even if he were offered millions of dollars, thank you very much.

By the time he got to the door to the parking lot, John suddenly thought of a perfect plan to counter the Corre's plans for him. There was nothing sweeter than a double-cross, he thought, and tricking those sick minded people into thinking that he actually fell into their trap was the greatest counter he could think of.

A smirk suddenly played across his face. "Yeah, I think I can play that game."

* * *

**A/N: So first of all, I want to apologize for the late update. My schedule was a wreck and I had to work on them first before getting back here. From this point on, though, I promise I'll do updates faster, alright? Oh, and thanks for the reviews! They mean so much to me! By the way, if you are wondering where I got that family problem John went through then I guess you should watch Cena's 5 Questions with the Champ over YouTube. It's fun to watch and you get to know a lot more about Cena's life! ;)**

**"Writers often have writer's block because they worry about the quality of their writing." I saw this while I was searching for things to help me get over Writer's Block, which is another reason why I updated late. ^^; I wasn't sure with the way I write, so I kinda lost confidence to continue this. But I decided not to give up on this because Cena always reminds me "Never Give Up"! :D So I guess you'll have to tell me how you find my way of writing!  
**

**Oh and a million thanks to cenarko1986 for sending me a message to get my ass off my seat and get working. Here's for you, dear! *hugs***


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Yeah, hi. Please don't kill me!**  
**Warnings: Abuse? Top!Orton? Spanking? This fic isn't really Orton-centric so DON'T LIKE DON'T READ/FLAME Alright? :3**  
**Disclaimer: The Usual. Don't own them. Only in my dreams.**

* * *

Shortly after he was done with his quick shower, Wade got dressed in a fast manner and headed directly to the parking lot. There was only one thought in his mind and that was to get away as soon as he could. Recalling the things he heard last night, mixed with the dream he had about the couple as he lied to his co-members gave him the uneasy feeling that he felt after he had the nightmare about Cena and Orton. It was slowly climbing on his shoulders again, making his chest feel a little heavier than before. Leaving Heath and Justin behind, who let him go on first because they wanted to hang around the gym more, the Brit sighed heavily, guilt adding to the mix of dark emotions he was feeling.

Guilt, huh? Wade heard himself chuckle with his ridiculous remark. If the people who knew him heard that Wade Barrett was actually feeling such a thing called 'guilt', he would bet his precious ass that they would laugh as hard as they could. Admittedly, they have a point; even he himself was surprised with the sudden turn of events. More especially with the sudden turn of his emotions toward Cena.

In order to keep the confidentiality of the CeNation leader's private life to himself, Wade actually had to lie to Heath and Justin about recruiting Cena to the Corre. He wasn't a 'kiss and tell' guy, and besides, he respected Cena although most people would say that that was the lie.

Another incredulous chuckle came out of Wade with the thought of Cena willingly joining the Corre. Before that actually happens, they have to taste the man's fist first hand. Or most probably they will have to go through Orton's beatings first before they even have the chance to lay just one finger's touch on his boyfriend.

As he neared the parking lot, his guilt had dominated most of his being already. He kept on thinking that for the first time as a Corre member, he lied to Heath and Justin. Sure, he lied most of the time back when they were still in the Nexus, but as he said many times lately, Corre had become his family and he was willing to sacrifice anything to keep it that way.

Walking down the parking lot, trying his best to discard the heavy feeling on his chest, Wade fished his car keys from the front pocket of his jeans and looked up at the direction where his car was located. His feet stopped, however, not because he saw his car broken or anything like that. It was actually worse; way beyond that thought, because in front of him, Cena was getting out of the driver's seat of his truck with an annoyed look on his face.

Wade watched as the man slammed the door of the truck with a force that almost shook the whole vehicle. Eyebrows creased into a frown, Cena swung his duffel bag behind his shoulder and placed his hands on his hips as he motioned away. He let out a frustrated sigh and stopped on his tracks; he must have noticed Wade just a few feet away from him because the older man slowly lifted his face to meet the Brit's eyes.

"Everthin' alrigh'?" Wade said, sounding as casual as he could. He even tried to remove the surprised look on his face, although he was expecting Cena to explode once he was aware of his presence.

However, nothing of the sort came and the man merely wiped his mouth with his palm and gave another sigh. "My truck won't start," the older man replied, and added with a slightly annoyed tone, "Is that alright for you?"

"Okay, I'm sorry, I was jus' askin'," the Brit managed to voice out, taking one step back. Suddenly he was afraid John would fend his frustration on him. Better not take that chance. "No need to ge' angry."

It seemed like John realized what he just did so he wiped his mouth again and shrugged. "Sorry. I was just so pissed at this truck. I was planning on getting home as soon as I can."

Wade didn't reply at this. His mind was actually spinning with surprise and disbelief; there was no way in heaven and hell that he and John would have a conversation, outside kayfabe, that would last for more than thirty seconds, but here he was, standing in front of his former rival, chatting with him like they were old buddies or some sort.

Checking the temperature, Wade took the conversation further by a notch and said, acting indifferently, "You're more calm tonigh', compared to how you acted earlier. I'm surprised you're no' lashin' ou' on me righ' this moment."

"About that," John started, his eyes darting a bit away from Wade's. "Uh, I had a rough night last night, so I was kinda tired when I woke up this morning. I'm sorry I took out my anger on you. I didn't mean to do that."

If anybody else was looking at Wade right now, they would probably think that the unexpected apology from John Cena was nothing of importance to the younger man for his face was as calm as fuck-like Cena just told him how much he hated him. However, inside this serene, peaceful demeanor, Wade's mind exploded out of shock and surprise. Not only that, he was freaked out at John's suddenly calm behavior towards him. Even the flames of rage he always felt whenever he was near the man had suddenly vanished.

Yeah, it was seriously freaking the shit out of Wade, alright.

But looking at it now, this was the best chance to have the talk with John. Not letting the chance pass by, Wade kept his calm, friendly face and he heard himself say, "How abou' a deal? You an' I go ou' fo' drinks tonigh' an' I give you a lift home. You can't possibly go anywhere with your dead truck now, can you?"

"I don't know, Barrett, I gotta catch up with a lot of work-"

"Hey, come on," Wade interrupted with a shrug. "It's quarter to nine. It's no' even tha' late yet. Where's the harm in borrowin' you fo' an hour?"

It was obvious that John was hesitating to accept Wade's offer, and the younger man was aware of the reason why. Randy. There was a great possibility that Cena was always wanted early at home because of his asshole of a boyfriend, although it was also likely that John just wanted to go home early for no deeper reason.

After a second, John gave Wade a happy, dimpled grin and nodded. "I guess I can grab a few drinks."

Suddenly, a face-splitting smile spread across the Brit's face. He didn't know why he beamed like that, but as he led the way to his car he convinced himself that he was just glad that he was finally putting a stop to his nightmare before it would get worse-not because he was actually going for drinks with John Cena

* * *

With the way Wade asked John to go to the bar with him, you would have thought that he had things going smoothly from then on. But as tough as he might had looked from the outside, Wade didn't actually know how to start off the conversation with the older man. It all happened so fast that he couldn't even remember if he and John spoke a word after deciding to head off to the bar. If his memory served him right, the only time that he said a thing was when he asked the bartender for two ice cold beer bottles.

And here he was, nursing a moistening glass of beer in his right hand in a booth at the corner of the bar. The perfect place to have a private conversation with a guy who spoke to him for only a hundred words or less. He had the perfect chance laid out in front of him but he had no idea how to start it off. Keeping his eyes on the moist building up on the surface and brushing them off every now and then with his thumb, he tried to say anything to kick the night off, but nothing came out of his mouth but a shaky sigh.

"Got something bothering you, Barrett?" John's low but somehow cheery voice hit Wade's ears and the Brit snapped his head towards the other man who sat across him, wearing a serious look on his face.

"Wha' made you say tha'?" Wade asked back, confidence slowly kicking in. He shifted on his seat, adjusting so that he was now facing John.

"You've been staring at your drink since you held the glass. And that was almost fifteen minutes ago. I wouldn't be surprised if laser beams started shooting out of your eyes." Chuckling at his own clever joke, John gulped on his drink again and added, "I'm almost done with my bottle, you know."

Wade's eyes darted to the bottle in Cena's hand then he looked back at the man and said, "If you want another bottle, just say so. Put it on my tab."

"Wow, why so generous now, Wade?" John said with a laugh as he leaned forward on the table. It was obvious in the man's tone that he was being sarcastic, but Wade couldn't rule out the fact that he just called him by his first name. Not that it mattered or anything, it was just that it was such a long time ago since he heard it from Cena and now he thought it was weird.

"Is it bad?" Wade replied, giving off a smirk of his own.

"Nah, I wouldn't say it's bad. I'm just surprised you are actually treating me tonight."

"Well, savor it because I don't do this much often."

Another laugh escaped from Cena's lips, except this time, it was louder and heartier. He shook his head as he leaned back, crossing his legs under the table. "So where are your 'co-members'?" He asked, emphasizing his word with an air quote, then added, "It's odd seeing you without them."

The air quote from Cena actually flipped something inside Wade and he felt a vein popping somewhere in his head. However, he tried his best not to explode so he simply answered, "Heath and Justin had something to do and Zeke had to leave this afternoon to visit his sick mother."

"Oh, okay."

After that, silence had fallen once more, and every second grew heavier and more awkward. The hype of the conversation was falling flat and if Wade wasn't able to picking it up again, he would lose the chance on opening the topic with John. It's now or never, he thought, so he mentally took a deep breath and when he finally found his voice, he heard himself ask,

"Aren't you worried abou' your truck?"

"Nah," John replied, giving a little shrug. "I'll ask Randy to pick it up for me."

"Randy..." Wade echoed when he heard the man's name. Just hearing it gave him goose bumps. "So, when did you start datin' Orton?"

As soon as the younger man asked the question about Randy, John began to sputter and choke on his beer right after gulping it down. Cena started coughing madly and Wade almost felt sorry for him. Fortunately the American was quick to recover, though his eyes had traces of tears, and he heaved a heavy breath.

"Why the hell would you suddenly ask that?" John asked incredulously after catching his breath. It was clearly obvious that he wasn't expecting the question, and Wade actually thought it was funny.

"Is it wrong to ask? I'm just curious."

"N-no, just surprised, that's all," John mumbled after drawing another heavy breath. He cleared his throat and straightened on his seat, eyeing Wade suspiciously. "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Wouldn't hurt now, would it?"

"Good point," John mumbled once more. He grabbed his beer bottle once more and it seemed like he suddenly took interest of the moist on its surface. He didn't speak after that and Wade already thought the man didn't want to talk about his history with Randy, and he was about to let it go, but then John suddenly cleared his throat again and leaned back on his seat.

"I...had a fiancée. Liz. Elizabeth Huberdeau. She was my first love. Dated her for years. We were still together when I started working in WWE. Everything was perfect; we were happy, we were engaged, set to get married for the coming year. Then..."

John trailed off and Wade thought he didn't want to continue anymore. Wade would have let him stop-even though the cliffhanger was killing him-if the man really didn't want to recall any of this but just as when he was about to speak, John lifted his suddenly watery eyes towards him and gave a shaky laugh.

"Whoa, I never thought I'm still affected by this...where was I? Oh yeah, a year before we were set to get married, I found out she was cheating on me with some hot shot she met at work. After that, things took the wrong turn. I loved her so much I thought we could still work it out, but she didn't want to get back together anymore. She said she felt lonely while I lived my dream of touring around the world as a WWE superstar. I couldn't blame her so I chose my job over her and we broke up.

"I almost killed myself at the gym. I worked the hell out of my body until I was hospitalized for five days. Couldn't even move my arms, I tell you. But after all of that, there was one thing that kept me going on. Well, it was Randy. He stayed with me when I was pouring my heart out right after the break-up and he was there when I was forced to stay in the hospital. He continued to stay by my side and I guess as time went on, I started loving him. A little ways down the road, I confessed to him and he said he felt the same way. That's how Randy and I got together."

Exhaling another deep breath, John took his beer bottle and gulped it for the last time, draining it empty. Wade was quietly watching him, but inside he felt something heavy dragging him down. Maybe it was because of Cena's story. He never expected it to be that emotional. He had always known John Cena as the goofball, rapping fail superstar in his earlier days, but he didn't think he was carrying something that heavy inside him at the time. And to think Randy Orton was there to help him get through that ordeal.

But that was years ago. John had probably moved on from that heartache, so Wade shouldn't give a fuck about it anymore. What he should be racking about now was the fact that John might actually be in an abusive relationship with Randy.

"How is Randy treatin' you, by the way?"

The words escaped before Wade had the chance to think them through. Might be the cause of the drink. He saw John give him a look beyond disbelief but it didn't look like he was offended. In fact, the man immediately sank deep in his thoughts, perhaps thinking about the question himself.

"Randy, huh?" John whispered, caressing his chin as he thought of the answer. "I guess he's okay. He's kind of bitchy angry sometimes, but I guess I can handle it."

John's eyes dropped down and Wade immediately saw the sadness in them. Not only that, he saw John's hand gripping his empty beer bottle so tight it would shatter any second. Huffing out an angry breath, Wade closed his eyes when he felt his eyebrows crease on his own. He didn't know why but he was royally pissed at how John kept all of his troubles to himself, and it looked like he wasn't planning on doing something about it soon.

Lifting his glass, Wade took a long gulp of his beer and almost slammed the glass on the table. The clattering sound surprised John that he actually jerked from his seat with surprise.

"Are you okay?" John asked cautiously and Wade shook his head, holding his forehead lightly.

"Yeah, I'm good. Can I ask you another question?"

"Uh, I guess."

"How is Randy in bed?"

This time, John laughed a little louder than before and the sad look earlier suddenly disappeared. Seemed like he was really amused with Wade's question, and when he finally decided that Wade was serious, he answered just to humor the younger man, "Randy is a person in bed as he is outside the hotel. Wait, what is up with these questions anyway?"

"Nothin' serious. I just remember the way he's humpin' the floor whenever he gets in his Viper mode. Freaks the hell ou' of me."

John let out a booming laugh that almost filled the noisy bar and exclaimed, "For a moment there I thought you had a thing for Randy!"

"Oh, hell no!" Wade suddenly shouted defensively. "The guy's a psycho. I don't think there's anything attractive abou' the guy. No offense meant."

"None taken," John said with a smile. He looked down and his smile slowly turned sad as he said, "He may look like he always wants to kill everyone in his way, but I know, deep inside that strong shell, Randy is a good guy..." Then John added in a mumble, "…the old Randy I once knew."

Trying so hard not to react at what he had just heard, Wade lowered his eyes back to the glass in his hand. John must have thought he didn't hear his small whisper, but Wade was quick, and apparently lucky, to take notice of this little move.

"Hey, Wade," John called out, and hearing his first name come out of the man's mouth, Wade's head turned toward him in a snap.

"Yeah?"

"Uh, I don't know if this means something to you but thanks. This isn't actually a bad night as I was expecting."

Difficultly forcing a smile on his face, Wade answered with, "I agree, John. Turned ou' to be a fun nigh'."

* * *

As much as he didn't want to admit it, John actually had a fun night with Wade, which was weird 'cause he wasn't expecting the Brit to be that nice. He always thought that the younger man was as arrogant as he was always in front of the cameras, but tonight he was proven wrong. As a matter of fact, Wade was careful with his words. Not once did he hear him compare himself from others and say things that made him look better; although it was odd that he kept on asking about his relationship with Randy. Come to think of it, he wasn't asked of anything else except things about him and Randy.

John shook his head, smiling to himself as the elevator doors opened. That was a good night, alright, but he wasn't that stupid to think that all of it was an act for him to show his good side to the Corre. Wade was probably laughing an evil laugh right now, thinking that his plan was going well.

_Sorry about that, Wade, looks like I'm one step ahead of you,_ John thought with a laugh of his own as he walked to his hotel room. He took out his key card and swiped it in the door, unlocking and entering it with a push.

Once he stepped in, he looked up when he found the lights were open. Suddenly panicked, he looked around and his hand flew to his chest when he found Randy sitting on his bed, looking at him with intense eyes.

"Randy!" John exclaimed in surprise. "You scared me, man!"

John was expecting to see Randy laugh but he didn't. This time, real panic rose inside him and he slowly dropped his duffel bag on the floor. Not this feeling again, John pleaded in his mind. Trying to convince himself that everything was all right, he leaned down toward Randy, going for a quick kiss. When his lips were inches away from his lover, however, Randy suddenly spoke with his spine chilling, cold voice.

"Where have you gone to, John?"

Randy's voice drained all the blood from John's body, making him move away from the Viper. His heart thumped faster in sudden fear, but he tried to calm himself down. He gave a little laugh and shrugged.

"I left you a message, remember?" John said, trying his best not to let his voice shake from nervousness. "I told you I was going to the gym."

Randy stood from the bed and walked towards John slowly, saying, "What took you this long? Surely you didn't spend the whole evening in the gym." His hand went to John's face and touched it gently, adding, "I was worried about you."

Hearing that Randy was actually worried about him, John mentally sighed in relief. He knew Randy wasn't going to hurt him anymore; what happened last night was just because he wanted to sweat off. He wasn't wrong when he said that Randy was still the caring, loving man he fell in love with. He was starting to lose hope when all the beatings had started, but he knew that if he kept his faith on the man, everything would turn back to normal.

Oh how wrong he was when he decided to say the truth.

"I just went out for drinks with Wade Barrett," John said, suddenly excited to tell Randy about the Corre's plans and his own double-cross. "Did you know that Barrett's expecting me to join his team? I overheard them talking in the gym so I decided to stick around 'cause I know Barrett's still persistent in taking me out-"

He lost his chance to talk further when Randy gripped the collar of his shirt and fiercely threw him on the bed, so hard his baseball cap fell off his head. He let out a shout in surprise, and next thing he knew, Randy was on top of him, his hands over his head as his lover gripped them with his own.

"I don't fucking care about those shitty little bastards!" Randy bellowed in red-hot anger. "But you, actually going out and having drinks with Wade Barrett? What do you think I am, John? Your fuck buddy?"

"It's not like I had sex with him, Randy!" John screamed out, trying to calm his partner this time. "I love you, you know that. I won't cheat on you."

"Yeah, tell it to my ass! Next thing I know, you're running off with him just like what your ex-girlfriend of a bitch did to you!"

Okay, Randy getting all ridiculously jealous about him going out to the bar with some other guy, that John could forgive. But him saying shit about Liz, that wasn't something John could just let pass him by.

"Hey, don't talk about Liz that way!" John spat back, this time trying to fight back the gripping grasp of Randy's hand on his. "Despite what she and I've gone through, she's still special to me."

"Oh, that's right: she's a special girl. And look what you're special girl had done to you," Randy whispered, leaning down to meet John's face. "She left you alone. And where did you run to, huh? Where?"

Though reluctant to answer, John didn't have a choice, especially now that Randy was lifting his chin with his free hand. Trying his best to keep his anger to himself, John whispered back, "...to you."

"That's right, you came running to me. Like a little dog without a home, you came running to me. And if it wasn't for me, you'd still be a wreck, because nobody will accept you, John, except for me. Nobody else will love you because you're worthless. See, even your fans turn their backs on you. That's because you're a fucking tool, John. You should be grateful I'm still by your side."

Something inside John shattered the moment Randy was done speaking. Eventually he stopped fighting the hand on his wrists. No matter how many times he had heard the words, he was still greatly affected by them, and they had always left him undone. Once again, he felt unwanted, useless, nothing but a man who got a broken heart. It was uncanny how he was still alive after everything that had happened to him. Randy was right; he was just a fucking tool, doing anything what anyone told him to do. And he didn't have anyone else to turn to. He didn't have anywhere else to go.

Not knowing it, he was too deep in his thoughts like he was just sucked in a deep, dark hole that when he woke from his trance, he was already lying on his stomach, his jean shorts pulled down to his knees. The moment he realized what was happening, he frantically tried to get away from his position but as soon as he moved, he felt Randy's hand hit his exposed butt cheek so hard he could feel his skin stinging. A pained scream escaped his lips and he bit the pillow just beside his head to lessen the pain.

"I'm going to punish you for your actions today, John," Randy's voice drawled and from the corner of his eye, John saw him pull his belt from his pants. With the sight of the leather strap, John's eyes widened and fear started boiling inside his stomach.

"N-no, Randy what are you-"

"I am going to teach you a lesson you will never forget."

"Randy, please don't...I'm sorry, I won't do it again!" John pleaded, his eyes starting to water with tears as he tried to look at Randy's eyes. He hoped that his boyfriend would listen to him this time, but like the many times he was ignored, Randy stared back with his piercing cold gaze, lifting the belt up to his head and brought the leather strap down to the older man's butt cheeks.

Along with the whipping sound of the belt hitting John's skin, the older man screamed in agony, all the strength he could muster to lessen the pain slowly ebbing away. John squeezed his eyes shut, his fingers gripping the sheets as Randy kept on hitting him with his belt. Every time he felt the leather strap hit his ass, he whimpered and moaned in pain, hoping that Randy would hear his plea and would stop. But no matter how loud he screamed, the Viper kept on going and going, punishing him for a crime he wasn't aware of doing.

"P-please Randy...I'm begging you-gah! I-I can't take...anymore...Ah!"

John screamed so loud their neighboring hotel rooms would hear his voice anytime soon but it seemed Randy didn't care about any of it. He lashed out on John like a master punishing his slave for failing to accomplish a task. John was starting to lose consciousness from too much beating, and somewhere on the line he wished he would just die.

Eventually Randy stopped, catching his breath, and as much as John wanted to see his lover's face, he was too afraid to open his eyes. Not only that, his ass throbbed from the pain and he still felt the burning sensation even though Randy had finally stopped.

For a couple of seconds, John stayed on his spot, huffing deep breaths as the pain faded slowly. With all the strength he could pull, he opened his eye, peeking to see what Randy was doing now, and the moment he spotted the man, he felt his stomach turn 360 degrees.

Randy was fumbling on his own pants, getting out of them as soon as he could. He took them off along with his boxers and John's stomach churned again as he looked at Randy's hard member, standing in full alert_. How in the world can Randy find this arousing? Doesn't he know how fucking painful I feel right now?_

"Randy, no please," John said when he found his voice again. He tried to move and turn around but he felt so tired to even move a muscle. His efforts were put to waste when he felt hands gripping his hips tightly and Randy's cock sliding inside him without warning. Whimpering in pain and agony, John had no other choice but to bite on the sheets below him as the other man slammed inside him, not even waiting for him to relax.

The room was silent except for Randy's grunts and the sound of skin slapping against skin and even though John felt like he was being shredded into pieces, his own cock turned hard, the instinct of being fucked kicking in. John was silently rejecting Randy in his mind but his body wasn't saying the same anymore. He made a move to touch himself but thought better of it. He couldn't get off with this; he was feeling too much pain that he couldn't move a limb.

Seconds turned to minutes and Randy's pace was picking up, hurting John more in the process. A couple of thrusts later and he stopped, coming with a satisfied grunt and the older man felt his ass being filled with Randy's seed. Randy slowly pulled out of John with a loud 'pop', releasing his grip on his hips. Then he leaned down until his mouth was a centimeter away from John's ear and gripped his chin up from behind.

"You are my property, you got that, John?" He whispered in between breaths. "Nobody's going to take you away from me. Anybody tries to touch you, even lay a hand on your skin, I'll surely end that person's life."

Randy jerked John's face away and the older man lifelessly watched his lover get dressed, turn to the exit and disappear to the door. Once he was sure that Randy was completely gone, John stretched his hand and reached out to his aching hole. His fingers touched something wet and he flinched. Silently praying to god it was just come, he lifted his hand until his eyes could catch sight of what was on his finger. His heart fell down to his stomach.

There was blood, smeared with a mixture of Randy's essence. John closed his eyes and dropped his hand down, fighting the urge to shed another tear. Despite his efforts, water ran down from his eyes. He couldn't help it anymore so forced himself to go to sleep, tired, dick still painfully hard.

"_Fuck._"


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **So, just wanted to let you guys know that I'm still alive (though I'm probably sure you'd want to kill me right now). Hope you can forgive me for the late update. Also, a reminder, I changed the name of the fic 'cause I realized that 'Broken' is such a common title (and a pretty boring one if you ask me). By the way, I don't want to make excuses but I made this chapter lighter than the previous one 'cause..come on..I think I made John suffer too much. So this is a pretty safe chapter, no violence at the moment. Alright, enough of the rant! Hope you enjoy and have a nice day!

* * *

Three days had already passed since Wade last laid eyes on John, and that went way back when they went out for a drink in the bar. And every growing minute since then the Brit felt more and more uneasy, worried and restless. Well, for one, it's very likely that John might had gotten himself in trouble for hanging out with him. Of course, he couldn't rule out that Randy could have been so damn angry about it that he brought down his hand on the CeNation leader. The more Wade thought about it, the stronger his stomach churned and his heart leapt inside his chest like it wanted to rip out of his ribs.

Pacing around the Corre locker room, the Brit ran his right palm through his face and willed himself to calm down, although he couldn't blame himself for being so worried. Three days. For three days John didn't go to the house shows. But Orton was present in every event and every time somebody asked him where the hell Cena was, the Viper merely shrugged like he didn't care and said that he had no idea; that maybe Cena wasn't in the mood to wrestle that night.

Well fuck that. If there was one thing Wade admired of John, it was the will to make it to every live event their company provided. But if the guy couldn't make it for three nights, then it was probably because of an injury. Then again, if he was suffering from an injury, why were the writers unaware of it?

Frustrated for unknown reasons, Wade sat down on the bench, huffing angrily as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his lap, placing his palms together like he was praying. With his eyes closed, he forced himself to calm down; to stop thinking about it too much. And somehow his worrying about the guy in a purple shirt made him a little weirded out. Now the question _'Where is John Cena?_' was replaced with '_Why am I so worried about him?_'

"Wade, is there something wrong?"

The Brit opened his eyes, glancing to his side and there he saw Justin, sitting beside him with a worried look on his face. Although he was quite surprised, Wade didn't let it show and instead, he leaned back on the bench, patting the back of the South African native.

"Jus' wanted to shut my eye fo' a second, Justin," Wade said with a reassuring smile. He stood from his seat and placed his hands in his pockets. Another uneasy sigh escaped his lips, his gaze focusing on the floor as his mind went on to think about the missing superstar.

Maybe he was concentrating too much that he didn't notice Heath and Zeke coming in the locker room. Only when the red-haired man spoke did the Brit realize he wasn't alone with Justin in the room anymore.

"Rehearsal's over. They want us back at six o'clock-what's going on here?"

Wade turned his head to Heath in surprise. He must have misunderstood the situation based on the look on their faces. Giving an innocent shrug, Wade replied calmly. "Nothin'."

Heath looked like he didn't believe what Wade just said and he continued to stare at the Brit like he was waiting for an explanation. However, Wade merely gave a tired sigh then walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Justin asked, standing when he saw their co-member exiting the door.

"I need to ge' some fresh air."

And without waiting for a reply, Wade went out, gently closing the door behind him. He walked on, draining any thoughts that had been bugging him all day, but it was a difficult task. Every now and then a voice would whisper on his ear and say such things like '_You're not trying to help him. You're making the situation worse. You should mind your own business. Let him suffer on his own_.' The words were clear but completely stupid. He wasn't trying to help Cena out of this deadly relationship. He just wanted to know if his hunches were true: that Orton was an evil psychopath and Cena was a stupid martyr.

Wade stopped in the middle of the hallway and closed his eyes as he massaged his temples with his fingers. It was a habit of him to stop and keep quiet when his mind was battling with opposing thoughts like earlier and thankfully, it was helpful.

Well, most of the time.

There was a voice coming closer to him and Wade didn't bother looking who it was. He knew whose voice that belonged to. It was Josh Matthews and it seemed like he was arguing...okay, maybe pleading to someone and he sounded so desperate. Curious all of a sudden, Wade opened his eyes and waited for the people to come into view.

"The audience went wild in disappointment when we announced that you weren't present. Come on, please, just have one short match tonight."

"Alright, Josh, I'll think about it," and with that, Wade's eyes widened and his heart-he couldn't rule it out-skipped a beat in sudden shock. He knew that voice very well. That was the voice he was waiting to hear for three days already. Finally, he was going to see John again.

Footsteps were coming closer and Wade fought between the thoughts of leaving or staying and somehow, his stubborn side won and he stayed, rooted on his spot, waiting for the two to appear.

"Okay, I'm not promising anything, alright? I just came from the hospital and I don't want to strain myself."

"Wha' do you mean you jus' came from the hospital?" The Brit blurted out, not holding back when Josh and John finally appeared in front of him. The two stopped walking and turned their attention to Wade, who had a pissed off look on his face. He approached them, not caring if John didn't like talking to him in front of other people.

"Good timing, Wade," the small ring commentator said with a sigh. "Can you please convince John to have just one match tonight? We're really expecting him to entertain the crowd later."

"Hey, you think I'll say yes to this kid?" John asked Josh, anger hinted in his tone. But it didn't seem to work for Josh scooted away, saying that he needed to do something important, leaving the former rivals alone in the corridor.

John removed his baseball cap, raking his fingers through his hair and adjusting the cap back on his head again. Then he turned his eyes to Wade almost forcefully. "No matter what you say, I won't guarantee that I'll be wrestling tonight."

"I don't give a damn abou' tha'," Wade responded in a heartbeat. "You said you jus' came from the hospital. Wha' happened to you?"

The CeNation leader's eyes narrowed at the Brit, maybe in confusion or suspicion, but Wade didn't care. He moved closer to John, waiting for the American to explain himself. However, the answer to his question wasn't what he was expecting for John moved away, huffing out an indifferent breath.

"It's not a big deal."

Wade's brows met incredulously and he mouthed a silent _'What?'_ before gaining confidence again and following John. "You were gone fo' three nights! An' you say wha' happened to you isn't a big deal?"

"I told you, it's not. And mind your own business."

Mouth hanging open in surprise, Wade's brows furrowed and he stomped toward the older man, pulling him by the elbow almost forcefully. John merely gave him a stern look, as if he didn't have any choice. And with that simple glance, Wade felt his stomach churn. So the good side he saw from the guy was gone in an instant, huh? Still, that didn't matter to the Brit; he wanted answers and he wanted it now. And he didn't care whether John would trust him or not. He got his own ways, even if it would make him look bad.

"I know somethin' abou' you, John," Wade said, his voice lowering down in threat. He closed in on John, just like the many times he threatened the guy about his job. "Something tha' will destroy you once I le' the world know. So if you do no' wan' to cooperate, well, I think you'll have to start biddin' all your dreams bye-bye."

The threat made John jerk up and his teeth grit in unmistakable anger. Wade knew it would work; he'd been working in the same story line with the guy for half a year. He knew where to push the right buttons simply to make him angry. That was why he smirked and placed his arm around John's shoulder, not even worrying if the guy would push him off.

"How abou' we ge' ou' of this place, yeah?" The Brit asked, dragging John away who snarled but didn't fight him off. The man didn't even answer; he just kept on walking as Wade led him to the locker rooms. "Look at tha'. Silence means yes, righ'?"

And indeed John didn't make any sound except the angry huffs he let out every now and then. Wade felt him shake under him and he had to admit, he felt guilty with what he was doing. He knew that the guy was going through some serious stuff right now, and threatening him might build more pressure on his shoulders-no pun intended. This was the best way available for now. Either the easy way or the hard way and apparently, the easy way was out of option.

The two men stopped in front of the Corre locker room, much to John's surprise. With another smirk, Wade pushed the door open, finding his co-members on the other side. And as soon as their eyes found John standing beside Wade, their faces turned pale like they just saw a ghost. It was an amusing sight, really, and Wade didn't stop the smile creeping up his lips.

"Who wants to go on a trip around town?" Wade blurted out happily, patting John's back with his hand as he dragged the guy into the room.

"W-We're needed back at six, Wade," Heath stammered at him, his eyes glued to the CeNation leader. Wade chuckled, realizing that he really caught the guys off guard.

"Screw the match tonigh'. Let's 'ave some fun!" Wade said in a tone that sounded like they were going on a Christmas vacation or something. He turned to Justin, expecting a positive answer from him. "Come on, you guys were buggin' me abou' takin' some time off, remember?"

"Yeah, Wade, but we have a match tonight," Zeke answered for Justin. "We can't just walk off without letting the upper management know."

"So you guys don't wan' to go?" The Brit asked thoughtfully, though he knew his voice was filled with sarcasm. "That's okay, I think our tour guide here still wants to come along, righ', John?"

He gave John another pat, this time encouragingly. If the guys didn't want to spend the day off, then so be it. It wasn't like they needed him, anyway. "I'll ge' my things ready."

"Alright, wait a second," Justin interrupted, stopping Wade from getting his duffel bag which was placed on the bench. "I'll go with you."

It seemed that all of the people in the room snapped their heads towards the South African and the guy's face slowly turned red in embarrassment. Honestly, though, Wade appreciated Justin's loyalty toward him; he wasn't expecting the guys to go with him anyway. That was why he grinned wholeheartedly and said, "See tha'? Now tha's wha' I call a fun guy. Anybody else still wan' to come along?"

Zeke and Heath looked at each other before nodding reluctantly, which Wade returned with a knowing smile. "Good. Let's pack our things, then."

* * *

A long stupid pointless, annoying hour later, John found himself walking behind Wade and The Corre, his jaw clenched and teeth bared behind his lips. He could feel his ears ringing and pounding as his eyes locked on the back of the Brit's head. He had to keep his temper inside, that he knew, but fuck it was so hard to do. With just thoughts of walking along with the group he hated as much as he hated the Nexus (he never faced them in a match yet but their tactics made John sick to his stomach that he wanted to rush into the ring whenever they appeared out of nowhere) and the memory of Wade Barrett having the guts to fucking threaten him made his sight go dark and if he wasn't careful, he would have ended up in rampage and yeah, it would definitely be a hit in the media. But he couldn't rush into them and attack them in public especially now that Barrett had found a way to get under his skin again. God, the guy just made him so fucking pissed off. And to think they shared one good night, hanging out and drinking like real buddies.

Thinking about it, though, what in the world did Barrett know about him? He felt another scrape inside his gut, making him huff a heavy breath from the pit of his stomach. He scrubbed his face with his palm and when he opened his eyes, he found the Bareknuckle fighter looking at him with, what was that look, worry?

"You okay there, John?" Wade asked, no mock or sarcasm in his tone. Just plain curiosity. But that wouldn't fool John. The CeNation leader looked away, grunting in response.

He was expecting a mocking laugh after that but nothing of the sort came and he stared at the back of Wade's head. What was it with this guy? One second, he was all Mr. Nice Fella, next he was back to that stupid asshole act of his then back to being concerned, I'm-worried-about-you guy. It was so fucking unpredictable that John just wanted to ram the Brit's face down the gutter until he got his mind straight.

Damn, he never got this angry in his life.

Mind still racing, John lifted his head up when he heard a soft chuckle hitting his ears, something he wasn't quite expecting to hear at a time like this. He lifted his head, finding Wade smiling, his arms folded across his chest as he chatted with Ezekiel who was shaking his head and chuckling lightly. Watching the two made it look like nothing else would go wrong.

"Not again," Zeke exclaimed, throwing a hand toward Heath and Gabriel's direction. The former tag-team champions were already footsteps ahead of them. They were talking loudly, pushing each other away roughly then one of them would grab the other's head in a headlock. John's first instinct was to ask Wade and Ezekiel to stop Heath and Justin before things could get worse, but he didn't see worry on their faces. Instead, they kept on walking forward, almost as if they weren't caring whether Justin ripped Heath's head or the other way around.

"Told you, Zeke," Wade said, answering the hanging question his companion asked him. "You better ge' used to this."

"Yeah, I know, but they're causing trouble out there."

Wade went silent, watching Heath and Justin closely before nodding at Zeke. "You're righ'," and then he turned to John, much to the CeNation leader's surprise. "Go over those two an' tell them to keep it down, would you?"

John frowned, suddenly pissed off. What? He was back as the lackey of this stupid English assed Brit? "What if I don't want to?" He spat almost cockily, folding his arms on his chest, imitating Wade's stance and trying to provoke him so they could already start fighting.

"You do as I say or else." And with that claim, John raised an eyebrow, waiting for more. Come on, Wade could do far better than that.

"Or else what?" The American pushed on, wanting to get Wade angry so they could settle this once and for all. But despite his efforts, the Brit merely shrugged and jerked his head toward Ezekiel.

"Or else Zeke here will go over to them and stop them instead."

Okay, that wasn't what John was expecting. But what the heck, it was better than getting his ass kicked by four men, now that he realized it. It was just suspicious that Wade wasn't using the words 'You do as I say or you're finished' or something like that. Dropping his arms, John stomped toward Heath and Justin, who were bantering and throwing off made up names at each other. Why in the world did he agree to babysit a couple of babyheads, anyway?

"Hey you two!" John yelled, interrupting Justin's attempt to shout 'ginger' at Heath. The former tag-team champions snapped their heads toward him, faces filled with confusion and surprise. John jerked a thumb toward Wade and Zeke. "Your boss wants you to stop messing around and keep it down."

"And why would we listen to you?" Heath countered, his hands going to his hips. It made John growl angrily inside and he tried to resist strangling the man with his bare hands.

"Because I'm your Daddy's errand boy, Wendy," John almost barked, his tone filled with authority. And it seemed to work for Heath's features softened and he pointed his fingers at Justin.

"He started it, not me!" He exclaimed accusingly and Justin threw him and angry look.

"I did not!"

Heath turned his head to Justin this time. "Did to!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

"_Did not_!"

"_Did to_!"

"Okay, okay!" John interrupted before he himself could explode. He didn't know these two could be so childish. But at least he got their attention and he took the chance to speak up. "Tell me what happened first."

The CeNation leader looked from one to the other and thought they weren't going to budge. Then, almost hesitantly, Justin huffed out a breath, throwing a glance at Heath. "He called me midget."

"No I did not!"

"You'll get your turn soon, Wendy," John said, pointing his index finger at the red haired man. Then he turned back to Justin, frowning at him. "That's it? Did he say anything else?"

The young man lowered his gaze and slowly shook his head, making John sigh in exasperation. Maybe this was why Wade wanted him to tag along. What an ass. Yes, he was used to greeting his fans which mostly consisted of children, but that didn't mean he was babysitting them like what he was doing to these overgrown six year olds. Trying to keep his patience at bay, he turned to Heath who was looking away.

"I want you to apologize to Justin," he said with a tone that said this argument was over. Thankfully, Heath was cooperative and he looked at Justin, taking in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry I called you midget," Heath croaked and it made John smile. Hey, that wasn't bad. And when he turned to Justin, the man was nodding slowly, although his head was still turned away. When John heard him mumbling apologies in reply, he placed his hands on his hips, smiling to himself for a job well done.

Then, almost as if on cue, he felt a light thump on his back and he turned to see a smiling Wade beside him. "Nice work, John. You never fail to live up to your expectations."

That statement snapped something inside John, in a negative way of course. This time, he didn't try stopping himself anymore and he slapped Wade's hand away from him, eyes glaring at the Bareknuckle fighter. "What, you've been expecting me to be your _ever-so-wonderful _babysitter?"

The Brit shrugged almost innocently, a little smile tugging up on the corners of his lips. "Well, you've been workin' with children fo' quite a while now."

John heard something snap in his head. His fist curled up in growing anger and his jaw clenched so tight it almost hurt. He was really giving up. This guy would never be satisfied as long as he wasn't humiliated or embarrassed in public or even just in front of his co-members. It was a mistake to associate himself with this demented group and he never wanted anything to do with them anymore. He never wanted anything to do with Wade Barrett anymore.

What angered John more was Wade's calm take in the situation. The man looked like he wasn't caring a bit whether John would actually hit him in the face. Rather, it seemed like he was expecting John _not _to hit him at all. It took every ounce of self-control or else, he would have swung a fist right in the Brit's face. Even Heath, Justin and Zeke were feeling his murderous energy and the three braced themselves for what was going to happen.

"It was a joke, Cena."

Okay, that didn't help with his anger at all and it just made his anger flare up a notch. Funny how this guy found certain things amusing, he thought. His fist clenched once more, ready to do some beating and some payback for everything this asshole had put him through.

Still, Wade kept his calm demeanor and he shrugged again at the American. "I was actually expectin' you to handle arguments in the group withou' a swea', which you had done quite well. I was impressed, I have to say. We need someone like tha' in the group."

John stopped momentarily, taken aback with Wade's claim. _How could I forget_, he thought sarcastically. Barrett wanted him _in _the group, not the other way around. Oh, so now this was a test, huh? To see if he was really qualified to get in the team. And somehow, it looked like he passed this test. He let out a smirk in his mind. He couldn't wait until he could turn this stupid group down.

Letting out a convincing sigh, he glanced at the Brit and made the shift of his emotions obvious for them to see. "Make those kinds of silly jokes again and I'll start breaking your fingers one by one."

Wade nodded and there were no traces of suspicion in his face although he kind of looked distracted as he answered, "Note taken."

Nodding back at him, John turned around, keeping his gaze low to the ground. Seriously, he should be nominated for Oscars for what he was doing right now.

* * *

After the incident with Heath and Justin, the day went on without any other life-threatening events happening and John was thankful for that. If he wasn't able to control himself from strangling Barrett from too much anger, The Corre would surely gang up on him and send him to the hospital and this time, they would make it permanent for sure. It was a number's game and as far as he knew, four against one never ended up good in his part. He really got no other choice but to go along with this group he despised as much as the New Nexus. Come to think of it, it was like he was back in the old days where he would have to hang out with the old Nexus by force. There wasn't much difference at all. He still followed them like a dog tailing his master wherever they went. No matter how degrading that sounded for John, it was all true. He got to admit, though, there were slight changes in this group but he still couldn't place it whether these changes were good for him or not.

Sure, Heath and Justin still ignored his presence like he wasn't even there, but Heath wasn't throwing John some of his offending remarks anymore. Jackson, on the other hand, was somehow like Otunga, ordering him to do this and that but Zeke was actually doing it in a nicer way. John had always seen the better side of the guy so he wasn't expecting him to be a bully or anything like that.

Now, Wade Barrett, this was another story for the Massachusetts native.

Since they all left, John had kept his distance from the group as far as possible. He kept his pace slow, letting the group move ahead of him. Better seclude himself rather than see their faces that would probably just piss him off, he decided. Also, with that much distance, he could plan his escape without them noticing. None of them would care if he just disappeared, right? So he walked slowly, waiting for the chance to run off or hide behind a tree.

But with the Brit occasionally glancing at him, the task had become much more difficult than it was. To add with that, John noticed that Wade was slowing down as well and it was as if he was adjusting to the American's pace. It kinda gave him an unsettling feeling in his stomach. Wade Barrett from Nexus wasn't like this; the Wade he knew would walk ahead of the group, never giving a fuck whether his group was following behind him as long as he was walking to his destination. This Wade would turn his head to him every now and then, sometimes letting the gaze settle for a couple of seconds before going forward. It wasn't that John was bothered by it; it was just that whenever the Brit looked at him, all he could see was worry and it brings him back to the night when they had a couple of drinks, finally talking like normal people.

His mind was swimming in thoughts and his eyes were so focused on the back of Wade's head that when the larger man turned again, he actually jumped in surprise and his hand flew to his chest as if he was keeping his heart from leaping out of his ribs. He must look comical right now, eyes like deer caught in headlights and mouth slightly parted from a shout that was stuck in his throat, but Wade wasn't even cracking a smile. Instead, he stopped and faced him, arms folding across his chest.

"Are you alrigh', Cena?"

John gulped and took a deep breath, nodding although he was still in shock. "Y-yeah, I'm good. You just surprised me, that's all."

"Seemed like you were thinkin' of somethin' deep."

_Yeah, I was thinking of how to kill you by making it look like an accident,_ John's mind went but something else came out of his mouth. Without thinking of it, he looked straight into Wade's eyes, took a step forward, spoke with a serious tone. "Why exactly did you bring me along with your group, Barrett?"

The Brit locked his gaze with Cena. It reminded John of how they always did this staring contest in the ring although back then, what he saw in Wade's eyes were arrogance, stubbornness, greed. This time, all he could see was worry: a look that he had been seeing from him the whole day.

"Can you give us a minute, Zeke?" Wade asked Jackson who seemed to have taken interest in the situation. "Go with Heath an' Justin. John an' I will catch up."

Nodding hesitantly, Zeke took heed of Wade's order and he went on ahead, dragging the former tagteam champions on each elbow. Now that he was alone with Wade, he didn't know what to do. The situation was in his advantage now that Wade's team was gone, if ever they get into a brawl, but there was something in his gut that was telling him that there wouldn't be any fight that would go on tonight.

"Wha' d'you want to know, Cena?"

_Time to be serious_, John thought. He sighed, letting out a huff before answering. "Why am I really here, Wade? I am done with being your slave. I don't want to be your lackey again."

"I didn't bring you along to be my lackey, John."

"Then what am I doing here?" John asked, this time, his voice rising in impatience. "You know that if it wasn't for your fucking threat, I wouldn't be here!"

Wade looked surprised to hear John say something about a threat but he wouldn't fall for that. The guy was just trying to catch him off guard and any time soon he would remember about the blackmail he made before he was forced to have a stroll with The Corre. Sure enough, Wade nodded in comprehension, and it seemed like he finally remembered what he did. Odd thing, though, he looked like he was confused of everything as well.

"You're still goin' on with tha'?" Wade asked him, letting out a chuckle in disbelief. "John, tha' was an empty-handed threa'."

John let his mouth hang open, unable to form the words as soon as the words finally registered in his head. To be honest, he really didn't understand. It was like he heard some other language and the only words that left his mouth was, "Wait, what?"

"I was jus' pretendin' tha' I knew somethin' abou' you, bu' you should know I was jus' bluffin'!" Wade exclaimed with a laugh. "Or if you'd like a threa' then I can start tellin' people how emotional you are abou' your past, bu' that's ou' of bounds now, innit?"

At loss for words, John froze on his feet, unable to make any reaction from what he just heard. Honestly, he didn't know if he should be glad knowing that Wade didn't hold any information that he should be worried about or if he should be annoyed to know that he was dragged out of the arena for nothing. He couldn't deny that he was relieved, though; at least one problem out of the way for now.

"Now, to answer your question," Wade took a step toward the older man, and John noticed that there was a hint of cheerfulness in the Brit's voice. "I forced you to come with us today because I though' tha' you needed a break."

"A break?" John gave an incredulous laugh. "I don't need a break. I'm all right."

"Tha' is no' wha' everybody is seein'. Well, maybe, at least tha' is no' wha' _I _am seein'."

John looked up at Wade, taken aback with what the guy said. He couldn't be serious, right? He was fine. He didn't need a break. He did what he did best, and that was entertaining his fans, even his haters. They gave him the will to walk forward each day, to strive hard and work with the best that he could. Everything was okay. For him, there was nothing to worry about. No problem at all.

_Your boyfriend is beating you up without reason._

It was that little voice again, the one that always reminded him of the pain, the punches, the bruises. It was that little nagging voice that whispered in detail what he was dreading for every time he entered his hotel room. It was that little voice that made him fear for his life, and made him fearful of his own lover. The voice that always made him recall, even if he had buried the memories in the back of his head, even if he forced himself to forget every single thing Randy had done to him.

"I am righ', aren't I?"

John shook his head, this time, laughing freely now. He really should stop acting like an ass right now and just be thankful. Wade was probably trying to help him in his own subtle way, even if his only way was to threaten people. He got to admit, for the past four months, nobody had tried helping him. No one, not even his old friends, had tried asking why he wasn't hanging out with them anymore. And now, as ironic as it seemed, his former enemy was the one who was holding out a hand to help him out.

The CeNation leader let out a sigh and along with it, he released all the negative energy that was circling around him since he received that empty-handed threat from Wade. He even smiled in embarrassment, took his baseball cap off and raked his short hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry for being an asshole earlier. I didn't know that you just wanted to hang out."

Wade chuckled and once again, John saw the Wade Barrett he hanged out with the other night; the nice British folk he shared his grim past with. Looked like the guy's gentle side wasn't just his imagination after all.

"You go' every righ' to be mad, so I understand. I should've made it clear at firs' bu' you wouldn't have agreed to come with us if I didn't threaten you."

"Yeah," John said with a laugh as he placed his baseball cap back in his head. "You know I wouldn't have."

From the moment John Cena had been stuck in the storyline he had with Wade Barrett, he figured that there was no way in hell that they would get along, even only as acquaintances. Now, as he smiled back and walked side by side with the Brit, he realized that maybe change wasn't so bad after all. He knew it was too sudden to assume that they could finally co-exist without wanting to rip each other's heads off, but who knew that after months of being alone, he would finally find a friend in a man he once considered his rival and enemy?

Somehow, the day had become more bearable than he thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** You guys already thought that I forgot about this, did you? NO I DIDN'T LOL. Thanks to Cenaholic for making me post this chapter up heehee! Here you go, bb!

* * *

_'If there's one thing you wish to have, what is it and why?'_

Every time Randy recalled the question in his head, his face never failed to break into a smile and he didn't care whether the people around him thought that he was crazy or not. Not that the question was silly, no. That wasn't the case, really. It was just that presently, he doubted he needed anything else. He remembered smiling to the random fan who asked the question then answering with a cheerful voice: _"I got nothing else to wish for, 'cause I'm already happy with what I have."_

In fact, he was happy. Not just that, he was pretty much content with everything he had. He was alive, that was one. He got a decent, respectful job and he was enjoying it every second. He had a boyfriend whom he loved with all his heart and he would do anything just to make him happy. He couldn't add anything else than that. Nothing to ask for more.

It was almost half past ten when Randy finally got home. Well, technically it wasn't really 'home' since it was merely another hotel room that he would abandon within two days but as long as John was with him in that room, it became a special place. Same went with the other rooms they rented in their previous tours in other states. It was like he never wanted to be in any other place anymore.

Without even inserting his keycard to the door, Randy twisted the knob and entered the room, not even surprised to see John lying on the bed with an XBOX controller in his hand. The sight made the Viper chuckle inside. John looked like a kid, with his face scrunched up in concentration, tongue in between his teeth as his thumbs continuously slammed the buttons on the controller in his hands. He didn't even glance at the sudden intruder in the room; no, it was more like he was so focused on the game that he didn't even realize that somebody had already entered the room.

Finally wanting to make his presence known, Randy dropped his bag on the floor, intentionally letting it make a soft thud as it landed on the ground. Apparently, it made John glance at him, but only for just a brief second before he turned his head back to the screen.

"Hey, you're back," John remarked almost indifferently. Randy understood the behavior already and the man's lack of interest didn't have that much effect on him anymore. That was just the way the guy was whenever he was so focused with his game. Then, without turning his head to Randy, John asked in interest, "How did the conference go?"

Randy sat on the empty space on the side of the bed and bent to take his shoes off. "It went fine. Reporters were looking for you, though."

John snorted. "They'll keep on asking me the same thing. None of my answers can make anyone happy so why do I have to bother?"

"Hey, you're the face of the company, remember that. You gotta show your face to the public once in a while. And just so you know, I don't think I can cover for you anymore."

"Fine," John answered with a little pout that made Randy chuckle out loud.

"I'm glad we made that clear." Randy, as soon as he got out of his shoes, lay down on the bed beside John and turned his head to the screen, suddenly curious to see what John had been busy about all this day. "Hey, what are you playing?"

"SmackDown vs. Raw," the CeNation leader replied, just a little bit too distracted. "You know how you can always beat me with that RKO of yours in every live show we had? Well, this time I can finally -"

John's words were cut off by Randy's lips on his. He knew that it was a sudden move, but he just missed John so much. He could feel the older man kissing him back, sliding his lips against his with slow strokes. Randy loved this. And he was happy to know that only _he_ could feel John's sweet lips on his. Nobody else.

The older man pulled back from the kiss, sporting a dimpled smile as he stared into Randy's eyes. Then his eyes shifted back to his game, making his smile disappear in a split of a second.

"Hey, you just beat me up!" John exclaimed, emphasizing his disappointment by dropping the controller from his hand and gesturing to the screen with the other. Randy turned his head back to the screen just in time to see the 3D version of him deliver an RKO on 3D John Cena. Well, so much for irony, he thought.

"Maybe you can try again later."

"Yeah, maybe."

Planting a chaste kiss on his lips, Randy cradled John's jaw with his hands then pulled back when he felt John about to kiss him back. He rested his forehead against the man's, looking into his eyes, drinking the stare that John was giving back. His eyes were such a beautiful sight. It was so blue that he felt like he was looking straight up to the sky.

"You're mine, right?" He asked John. The man didn't even looked surprised with the sudden question. Randy had asked him the question for how many times for quite a long time already. He knew that John understood that it was just his possessive side kicking in.

"Only yours," John said with a reassuring smile. "Nobody else's."

Randy returned the smile then got off the bed. "Alright, I'll just take a shower then I'm going to join you to bed."

John nodded, taking the fallen controller back in his hands. "Don't take long now."

The Viper smiled to himself as he watched his lover restart the match on screen all over again. He could really use a long, hot bath now. John wouldn't mind if he did take long in the bathroom. The man didn't have anyone else to wait for anyway. He said it so himself.

John was all his. Every single part of him.

All his.

* * *

It was around nine in the morning when Randy finally got up and if it wasn't for the empty side of the bed, he would have gotten up much later than that. Still a little bit groggy from sleep, Randy reached out to his side, expecting to feel John's arm against his palm but when he found his side empty, he shot up from the bed with a start. In fact, the bed was empty except for himself, but the space looked like it was left vacant for only a few minutes only. That didn't matter to Randy, though; he needed to see John that morning. That was all that mattered. Getting on his feet, he threw in his clothes from the previous night with only one thought in his mind and that was to find John.

The man didn't know why but it had become a part of him to always see John before the man went off for the gym or just breakfast. He couldn't handle a day without saying goodbye to him in the morning. He got to admit, sometimes he felt unnerved with his attitude toward his lover and there was a time when he thought that he was already hurting the guy. A light smack on the head was what he received from John when he told him everything that he was thinking and the older man just told him to stop being so paranoid and that it was only his possessive side kicking in.

_"Everybody has a possessive side. Don't worry too much about it."_

And that was why he had stopped worrying about his behavior toward Cena.

"Hey, you're up,"

Hearing John's familiar voice, Randy lifted his head to see his lover walking out of the bathroom. He was already in his street clothes and Randy had a hunch that the guy was going to the gym again. Even before they got together, John had been going to the gym as soon as the sun rose up. It was a part of John's morning routine that he couldn't change at all.

"Yeah, why didn't you wake me?"

"You were sleeping so soundly and I know you're tired. I was about to leave you a note before I leave but it looks like there's no need to."

"Okay," at least that sent Randy in some sort of relief. Sighing lightly, he shrugged at John with a little smile. "I'm going out for breakfast. Want to join me?"

"Nah, I need to get to the gym as soon as I can," John answered as he lifted his duffel bag over his shoulder. "I'll join you next time, alright?"

Although he was disappointed with John's refusal, Randy kept it to himself and followed his lover to the door to bid him goodbye. He wasn't even embarrassed if anybody else saw the two of them coming out of the same hotel room in the mornings. Pretty much everyone in the company knew of their relationship so he was expecting no one to care anymore. Besides, their opinions didn't matter at all. As long as John loved him, he could care less about the world.

"I'll give you a call after I'm done," John said, lifting a hand up in goodbye. Randy nodded with a smile.

"Sure. Take care and don't work yourself out."

"Yes, Mom."

Chuckling at John's claim, Randy placed his hands on his hips as he watched the man walk down the hall, keeping his eyes on the back of the man until he finally disappeared inside the elevator. Without reason, Randy let out a sigh, suddenly deciding to get more sleep since it would probably hours before he would receive a call from John. He made a move to close the door but then he heard a familiar voice, calling his name in a soft but creepy drawl that made his insides swirl.

"Hey Randall,"

A glare automatically replaced his cheerful expression as he faced CM Punk, who was chewing on a gum so early in the morning - a thing that annoyed Randy for a bit - and on either side of the man was his loyal companions: Serena and Luke Gallows. And it seemed like the bearded man was staring back and forth from Randy to the elevator - still chewing on his gum in a much noisier way than normal, or maybe that was just Randy. The Viper was expecting Punk to say anything but the guy kept on shifting his glance from him to the end of the hall.

Having enough of the silence, Randy opened his mouth to speak but then the Straight Edge Savior smiled - no, _fucking smirked _- and it snapped something inside him. Also, it made him want to strangle the guy until he choked on his own spit.

"So," Punk finally said after a long moment. He was still wearing the smirk he had as he spoke. "You're still fucking Cena?"

It took Randy all of his willpower not to give Punk a haymaker right down his jaw. With his fist trembling from too much anger, Randy spat back, "Fuck you."

"Oh not me, no!" Punk replied in a heartbeat, raising his hands up in mock surrender. "No, I'm not interested in psychopaths like you. I don't even enjoy rough sex, for Pete's sake. I wonder how John takes it all in. You know. _All in._"

Punk's companions, even Punk himself, let out a chuckle in amusement. Randy, on the other hand, felt like ripping all of their heads right off from their necks. If only he could do it right now, but John would definitely not like it, also, he'd be fired and worst, he would end up in jail if he did. But thinking about it now, it was all worth it. He had wanted to end this bastard's life since the first time he had seen him. A little threat wouldn't hurt now.

Taking a step toward the Straight Edge Savior, only stopping until their noses were inches away from each other, Randy growled, "Get the fuck away from me or I'll shove my fist down your throat and pull your intestines out of your fucking mouth."

Randy wasn't expecting Punk to react to his threat but it felt so darn good to say it to him. And as right as he was, Punk merely let out a chuckle, the smell of his chewing gum hitting Randy's nose.

"Do you have a firm grip, Randall? If you don't, then you need to have one. Or else, he'll be gone before you know it. Like,"

And then Punk snapped his fingers before he let out another cackle as if there was something funny with what he said. The man took a step back, still smirking like the bastard he was, and walked past Randy, with his minions following shortly behind him.

* * *

Ever since his encounter with CM Punk, Randy had been cautious of his actions, and of course, John's actions as well. He knew that listening to Punk's nonsense shit was as dangerous as pissing Kane off, but somehow the words that the man had let out had crawled a way inside his brain and now, it had been bugging him from the moment he woke up till the second he closed his eyes to sleep. Also, he knew Punk enough not to trust whatever he said, but the man's words were so clear in his head that even in the midst of silence, the only thing he could hear was Punk's voice telling him to have a firm grip when it came to John, and then a loud snapping of fingers.

Snap.

"Randy, are you okay?"

Randy heard another snap and it finally woke him from his thoughts. Looking up, he found John snapping his fingers in front of his face. Almost as if he was still in a daze, it took Randy a couple of seconds before he finally gave his lover a sheepish smile. Finishing his job of unlacing his wrestling boots, he let out a sigh and shook his head to fully wake himself up. However, even if his head was bent low down to his feet, he could still feel John's eyes on him, as if studying him from afar.

"You've been spacing out lately," the CeNation leader finally said. "You really fine?"

"Yeah," Randy answered almost forcefully and his shoulders sagged when he found John looking at him with worry. "I'm really fine. I'm just tired from my match."

"Well, alright,"

Packing the last of his things, Randy's head drifted back to Punk and his words that he barely heard John speak. Well, he barely heard anything anymore, and by the time he was woken up again, his hand was firmly holding the strap of his bag and the door was shutting close. Perhaps that was what brought him back from his reality.

"Oh look, it's WWE's sweetest lovebirds."

That statement made Randy's head snap his head toward the man who had just entered the room, and sure enough, Punk was looking at him and John with that piss-off smirk again and his arms folded on his chest. Same feelings of anger surged inside the Viper and if it wasn't for John who calmly greeted Punk as if he was just another friend, he would have snapped the bearded man's head so that he could finally die.

"Hey, I thought you already left."

"I forgot something in my locker. Went to take it before I finally leave."

Punk smiled smugly at Randy who just glared back at him. He had been avoiding the Straight Edge Savior since he had that argument with him outside his hotel room, but it was uncanny how the guy found the way to always bump into him every single day. And every time they see each other, Punk gave him a look that reminded him of the things he said about John.

Well, this time, it won't work, Randy told himself as he swung his bag over his shoulder. "Come on, John. We need to go."

John nodded in response, carrying his bag and shutting his locker close. Somehow, the guy was oblivious about the tension Punk and Randy were giving off, but it was partly the Viper's fault for he hadn't told John anything about his encounter with the guy. He decided to just keep it to himself since there was nothing to worry about.

That was where he was wrong.

"Oh, before you go,"

Punk's voice stopped John and Randy just when they were about to leave the locker room. Randy had a hunch that whatever Punk was going to tell them, it wouldn't be any good to them so he made a move to grab John's hand and steer him away from the bearded man, but Punk had beat him to it.

"John, I heard you're going to be put in a storyline with the NXT guy. Is that true?"

Wait, Randy didn't know that. He gave John a look that the man easily read and with a wave of a hand, John explained, "Vince just told me this morning. I just forgot all about it 'cause of the match today."

"So it's true then?" Punk asked again. "Have you met the guy yet?"

"Nope, not yet. But I heard the guy was from England. I'm actually interested to see how our storyline would end up."

Randy knew that he shouldn't be reacting at all to John's remark about his storyline with the new guy. He had been put into various storylines with other wrestlers as well even when they had started dating. But quite honestly, John had never made such remarks like this. He never heard the guy say that he was interested in a plot the writers had cooked up for him. That was why he felt that tinge of jealousy inside his stomach and it was gradually growing like a fire inside him, for as far as he knew, the last time John had been interested in a storyline was when he was still feuding with him.

"Okay, thanks," Punk said casually, as if he was just talking to an old friend. John smiled at the guy before going out of the door, much to Randy's relief. He could finally get away from Punk.

"Randall,"

That call made Randy stop on his tracks and he turned back to Punk, only to see him smirking once more, his hand lifted up to his face and he snapped his fingers, the sound bouncing around the room.

* * *

Randy was scarcely getting enough sleep.

Even John was noticing the change in him.

But he couldn't do a thing for Punk had successfully messed with his head.

He had bad dreams. Nightmares of John disappearing. Leaving him. Disappearing in his life.

He couldn't take it.

His head ached so much from lack of sleep and as much as he didn't want to let it show, John had noticed. He said that he was working himself too hard, that he should take it easy.

But that wasn't the case.

Wincing because of his aching head, Randy massaged his temples as soon as he placed his plate on the table. He just had three hours of sleep last night. He woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get to sleep anymore.

He watched John until the sun had finally risen up.

"You look like you need to..._go to sleep_."

"Fuck off, Punk."

He didn't have to open his eyes to see if it was really Punk but he had gotten so used with the guy's voice that he could recognize it even if the guy just whispered. For the past week the guy had been appearing from out of nowhere, bugging him, pissing him off by telling him that John wouldn't last a day with a crazy, bipolar, egoistic bastard like him. And he had been so stressed he could really start strangling the guy if only he didn't have an aching head right now.

"Oh come on, Randall, why are you so grumpy?"

This time, the Viper opened his eyes and looked at Punk. The guy sat back on the chair opposite him, his arms folded on his chest. And of course, with that smirk on his face.

"Aww, is it because Johnny's not here? Can't last a day without him? Where is he, anyway?"

Randy couldn't help a groan in defeat. He let John have lunch earlier but he didn't have to tell Punk that. "I said fuck off, Punk."

"Ooh, touchy," the man answered with a chuckle. "Is he off fucking somebody else?"

Gritting his teeth, Randy glared at Punk but didn't say anything. He was tired of talking. Too tired. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"Ah, right. I'm sorry, let me rephrase that." Punk scratched his chin thoughtfully and inquired in a mocking tone, "Is he letting somebody else fuck him right now?"

This time, Randy didn't have the chance to stop himself and he actually grabbed the knife on the table, ready to stab the life out of the bastard with it. What stopped him, though, was Punk's indifference with his reaction. He didn't even move from his seat and continued to smirk at him like he already knew that Randy wouldn't even dare touch him right there. Gritting his teeth in too much anger and stress, he difficultly dropped the knife and let out a sigh. That was when Punk finally stood to walk away, but before doing so, he leaned forward, almost whispering to Randy,

"I think Johnny boy likes his new storyline too much. He can't stop talking about it."

* * *

Randy knew that whatever came out of Punk's mouth was pure bullshit and he shouldn't be even listening to whatever he was saying.

But what he said that day when he was about to kill him in the middle of the hotel's dining room came out to be true.

John had been talking about the Nexus all day: his complaints, his predictions about the outcome of the storyline, the people involved in the plot, his ideas to improve some of the twists, the ups and downs of the story, everything about his new plotline.

Punk was right. John had been too interested in this feud. And it scared Randy for no reason. Every time John said something about the new feud he was going to have, Randy's anger flared up a notch. He was afraid that this thing would take him away from John and would actually keep them apart.

Even when the night came, John still spoke of his feud that Randy had had enough and he pushed his lover down the bed. He kissed him, too roughly than before, frustrated and jealous of everything that came out of the man's mouth. He didn't waste time and he stripped off all of their clothes, doing all of these without an ounce of gentleness. He didn't even prepare John before he penetrated him. All he wanted was John to stop talking about anything else and shout his name.

Only his name.

Nobody else's.

Because John was his, and John promised him that.

When Randy came, it was like every weight on his shoulder were just lifted up and he collapsed on top of John's back, breathing heavily, worn out and tired. And that was when he felt John trembling furiously. He had to lift himself up to see if John was alright.

"I'm okay," John replied with a shaky voice.

But he wasn't okay.

His limbs were shaking, his face still held the pain he was holding back, his face was dry from tears but his eyes were straining to burst.

No, he wasn't okay.

Randy pulled out of John and then he realized, much to his horror that John's hole was bleeding from too much penetration. His heart pummeled down to his stomach and he felt like throwing up.

"John, why didn't you tell me to stop?"

Choking back an answer, John said, "I've been shouting for you to stop. But you couldn't hear me."

Filled with guilt for what he did, he took John in his arms, trying his best not to cry from what he did.

"I'm so sorry. It won't happen again."

He was chanting it like a prayer, saying it like a lullaby until John fell asleep on his stomach, which gave Randy time to clean the blood and the mess up. He promised himself that it would never happen again. He assured John that it would be the last time it would happen.

But that was just the start of it all.

* * *

It was the Wednesday and it was Punk's favorite time of the week. Well, he loved wrestling in front of a live crowd, showing off his skills and all, but really, the middle of the week was Punk's free time. It was actually every superstar's free time and they were allowed to go anywhere they like: roam around, explore and have fun. Yeah, it was his favorite time, alright.

Just done preparing himself for his night adventures - mainly, just eating dinner and dropping by the comic book store - Punk put on his jacket and his baseball cap - just in case somebody recognized him - and headed out to the hallway, only to find Serena and Luke waiting for him outside his hotel room. He wanted to be surprised to see their presence but he knew that these two just wanted to tag along wherever he went so he actually got used to it.

"Oh, hey guys, what's up?"

"Where have you been this afternoon?" Serena asked.

The question made Punk stop and he stared at her in disbelief. _What are you, my mom?_ "I had a talk with Cena."

He resumed walking, with, of course, the two following behind him. But it seemed the two wasn't done asking questions. Well, he was bored, so why not entertain their questions for once?

Luke started with, "Cena? Why did you talk with him?"

"Hmm, just had a chat," Punk answered indifferently. "Told him that Randy wanted to know everything he thought about his new feud, but was too shy to ask him about it."

There was a pause behind him and the man thought that they were done. But then Serena followed and he suppressed a sigh.

"But, didn't you tell us that Randy hated the fact that John's interested with something else other than him?"

Ooh, these were actually good questions that Punk was starting to get interested. "That is right. Randy has a possessive side that matches those of lions over their prey. That's why yesterday, I told Randy that John's too caught up in his new storyline to make him jealous. I just had to tell John that Randy's interested so that he'd start speaking."

Getting to the elevator, Punk pushed the down button on the wall and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for more questions. When he looked at his companions, though, he saw uncertainty in their faces that made him ask, "What?"

Hesitantly, Luke said, "Wouldn't that ruin John and Randy's relationship?"

Letting his arms fall down to his sides, Punk gave them a look that clearly said _"__DUH__"._ Wow, he thought they were already catching on with this! "I'm a genius. I'm pretty sure it's going to ruin their relationship."

Again, that uncertain look. It kinda annoyed Punk to see them give him that look. That was why he asked again, "What?"

"Not that I'm judging your actions, Punk," Serena said this time. "But, why are you doing this to them?"

Well, that was a question that made Punk think. He didn't really have anything against Orton. He just pissed him off sometimes but there wasn't really a thing that could prove that he hated the guy. In John's case, he absolutely didn't hate the guy. In fact, he liked him as a wrestler. Hell of a respect for that guy, he had to say. So if he didn't hate the two of them, nor didn't hold any grudge against them, then why in the world was he trying to ruin their relationship?

There was a loud _"Ding!"_ coming from the elevator, indicating that the lift had finally arrived. Just in time, he finally thought of the reason why. Outstretching his arms as he walked backwards through the elevator doors, he winked at his companions and smirked.

_Why all of this, you ask? Well, there's one simple explanation._

"Because it's fun."

* * *

**P.S.: **Reviews are lovely. I guess. ^^;


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